a poem for falling

and when the night, she surrenders herself to darkness,

indigo taffeta woven with silver pearl, 

falls atop all of her fine creatures,

the moon he puts his sun to sleep,

and sometimes those blankets, oh they will weep,

the sweetest rains you’ll ever breathe,

with wind and ice and all things pure

and on the day of your birth,

otoño breaks, and to the sol he gives a taste

of the freedom of an earlier morning

go to sleep, the moon, he whispers, 

dream of peace and all things warm,

although my rays will guide you into the scary darkness

wherever you see me, 

you’re home

do not be afraid all things big 

nor you, all things oh so small small

for as long as i am watching, you’ll never be alone

and even when covered in shadow, 

it is me

counting off the sheep to you

in languages we can all agree to understand

if only at night

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