Oh the passionate dance
of a mother in the evening
as you rock and sway
your feverish child
who clings to you with far away eyes
half-open and heavy

Classical music bursts through the darkness
with delicate yearning
and ebullient beauty

How beautiful and terrible
this ballet…
your hands caressing the little one’s back
as you rock and sway
–a living cradle–
an exhausted ark
carried upon the waves
of wakeful nights

And as you dance
you long
for the intoxicating embrace
of sleep
to carry you away like blossoms
floating down a rapid river

Think not of waterfalls
for they come soon enough
dance and dream only of sleep