The lullaby you finally hear


So wickedly prescient
that foreshadowing opener
baby on the treetops


and you’ve scarcely said
hello to the world.

When the wind blows
the cradle will rock gently

for a time.

When the bough breaks
you will fall through
your life down
baby down cradle and all

the ground some unknowable
distance beneath.

So look as you tumble
listen and touch
be exhilarated
be sickened
by the whirl
of it all

the precipitous drop through
all you cannot grasp

the soft fecundity of leaves
the brusque branches you
scrape in passing


You will know the words
by heart in the end feel
them in your fading

then forget them.

And return to
the treetops
with the melody
of your making

soothing your
evanescent ears
lulling you finally
to sleep.





  1. This is wonderful. What a trip, this passage through life wherein one’s beginning is one’s end, and within one’s end is one’s beginning. I loved how you composed this visually. Wonderful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! And yes: What a trip, indeed.

      Liked by 1 person

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