Day sinks away through the oceans of Evening,
Rippling like stars sweeping outwards to die,
While from their vortex the moon rises softly,
Borne from its depths to the roof of the sky.
And ‘cross the waters a boat glides serenely,
Nod is its helmsman, and Sleep is its queen.
Gently it drifts o’er the waves deep in slumber,
Dappled in shadows of violet and green.
Grey are the sails, each dream-woven by Twilight,
Sewn from the cobwebs that Morning passed by;
Pale is its image ‘neath moonlit aurorae,
Fashioned from memories, murmurs, and sighs.
And from its silhouette Sleep whispers gently,
Calling to mortals who follow like shades –
Entering slowly her boat of enchantment,
Drawn through the evening to mystical glades
Deep in the depths of the hidden subconscious,
‘Neath the dark heavens of shimmering Night –
Silently watching her star-shadowed journey
Into the morning, ‘ere fading from sight.
Waves bear Sleep calmly through dream-clouded kingdoms,
Misty surroundings of lilac and grey,
Fragile illusions like butterfly wing beats,
Melting like ghosts ‘neath the lantern of Day.
And as the dawn blushes shyly through Heaven,
Far ‘cross the ocean is Sleep softly borne,
Each mortal soul drifting back to its dwelling,
Waking once more to the laughter of Morn.
Thus she continues – the wisest immortal –
Fair both in features and mind she’ll remain,
Leading our souls till the world calls no longer,
Then shall we never look homeward again.