When the moon sings a
lullaby
And thousands of
twinkling stars adorn
The endless veil of
the heaven
And the little
sparrow
Hushes its baby to
sleep
In its comfy nest of
dried sun hemp
When the crickets’
harsh cries
Make the baby, asleep
in the cradle
Wail for his sleeping
mother
Lost in her just
fantasized dream
Of wonderland and
winged white horses
Taking her child to
the Isle of Joy
When the frail
fingers of the old widow
Touch the corners of
her prayer rug
And she spreads it
out to kneel before the lord
And moves her lips in
a silent prayer
With each word
drifting like a leaf
Drifting up to settle
in God’s tree
Then, I can see the
promise of a new dawn
As the warm rays of
the sun hunt down
A leaf at a time,
bush by bush
The soil of ground
inch by inch
House by house, every
surface
Till everything gets
engulfed
In a mystical orange
glow. . .
