Friday, November 6, 2015

Waking Questions

Daddy, where are the winds going
blowing by at such a tear,
as if they were themselves under sail?
Why, where the stars go, said I,
spilled across the sky
from Ursus' pail.
They now return to their celestial tombs
from which, my daughter fair,
emerging on tomorrow's eve so joyfully,
that they cry tears of light!

Rise up!  Rouse thee now from slumbers sweet...
A new day dawns for ye to greet!
A day of beauty and wonders to behold
and inspiring challenges for ye to meet.
Wake up now, my daughter fair,
and brush out the tangles from thy hair.
Run freely, gleefully, towards the sun
and have a lions share of nought but fun.

But where did the sun come from this morning?
Does he reside on yonder mountain from which he sprung?
Why yes, my daughter fair,
it is on that mountain that he has his lair.
There his house has long since burned to the ground,
giving him fuel to keep him hot and round.
His nightly conterparts, the stars,
have little houses nearby scattered far
and wide over all those mountainsides.
Each night they emerge for their circling rides.

Now, wake up, my daughter fair,
and take up thy position in yon breakfast chair...

mindbringer, 6 November 2015