What does that make you think of? A mother or father lovingly singing their child to sleep? A happy childhood memory?
I have a gorgeous little niece who absolutely loves to be sung a lullaby. She loves trying to sing along in her baby language, and sometimes just random words here and there. In fact, I love singing for her just to see the glee in her eyes and that adorable smile spread across her face. The following poem was not written for her, but for the children who are unfortunate enough to miss out on loved ones singing them a lullaby – singing them a wall of safety and love.
This poem was penned because two trigger words kept looping themselves in my mind over and over again: ‘blue lullaby’. I have no idea why they did so, and at that time I didn’t think much of it but be compelled to write a poem starting with them. And so I did. The result was an unusual poem. I think it goes a little deeper than most people might like. But the inspiration behind it was that no matter how tough and harsh life may get, there are people out there with enough strength to ride forward on the backs of a memory, a song, a feeling, a person – something that makes everything worthwhile and allow them to drown out the world.
I welcome any comments you may have. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.
*
Blue Lullaby
My Blue Lullaby
Was sung so sweetly that night
On the high winds, the low swells
On the cries of sea gulls
It drifted to the world below.
Into the night land where fairies fly
Was sung my sweet Blue Lullaby…
Hardships of day past swept
The salty tears dried
A smile stretched and nullified
And I cast aside the anger and the pain.
Sshhh! Listen to my sweet Blue…
The sharp blade and the harsh words disappear
The shattered mirror swept to one side
Small light flickers on the wings of change
And for another day the noose
Lay temptingly bare.
One more day I slave away
A torture I happily embrace
And another stinging night I sell
To hear once more the soothing voice
And my song, the Blue Lullaby.
For one more day I’m kept alive
My sweet Blue Lullaby.
[But pick up the blade again.]
Pingback: ‘Write what you know’ – why it is a poor advice | papermashed