hush, child

Hush, child, be still.
This striving is not yours.

You run around in circles
like a bloodhound on the trail,
your nose pressed in the mud,
but you don’t even know
what it is you’re searching for.

Driven along by a
primal instinct, an animal
hunting day and night, but
for what? Some image in your
head of who you think I am?

Rest, child, be still.
This striving is not yours.

Lie down on the mossy
bed at the river’s edge
and sleep, and I will lie beside you,
and sing your tender song,
and stroke your forehead softly as you dream.

And when the time has come, when your
spirit rests at last, I will rouse you from your
slumber with a gentle nudge,
and lift you by the hand, and we’ll
walk along the water, together then as one.

Quiet, child, be still.
This striving is not yours.

© stephanie pepper, 2020

4 thoughts on “hush, child

  1. I really like this one, so much. And, since I am some days removed from learning about some old family gossip, your story about it is so much clearer. But that’s why it’s such a good poem—whatever the worry of the reader, it speaks to that worry.

    I see such maturing in your writing. You should be so very proud of yourself. I certainly am proud of you!

    >

    Liked by 1 person

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