The moon hangs low in silver light,
A lantern glowing soft and white.
It spills its hush across the sky,
Where drifting clouds go floating by.
The day dissolves without a sound,
Its sharp edges growing round,
Like pebbles resting in the sea,
Worn smooth by quiet constancy.
A gentle breeze begins to sigh,
It hums a slow and tender lullaby.
Through open fields and shadowed trees,
It moves with unhurried ease.
Your thoughts grow softer,
Light as air,
Unravelling without a care.
They settle down like falling snow in silent drifts below.
The stars blink softly,
One by one,
As if the night has just begun.
They shimmer in a velvet sweep and guard the gates of sleep.
Far mountains fade to misty blue,
Their edges lost from view.
The world grows smaller,
Safe and deep,
A cradle made for sleep.
Your breathing slows,
A steady tide,
Rolling gently in and outside.
Each exhale like a whispered prayer,
Releasing every care.
A river flows through fields of dreams,
It glows with silver seams.
It carries worries far away,
Where they dissolve and sway.
The earth beneath you holds you still,
With patient strength and quiet will.
No need to strive,
No need to roam,
You are completely home.
The night wraps round like woven lace,
A tender,
Warm embrace.
It shields you from the rush of day and keeps all noise at bay.
Now shadows soften into light,
As stars burn low and bright.
Your mind drifts on a moonlit stream and slips away into a dream.
Sleep finds you where you gently lie,
Beneath the calm,
Wide sky.
And in its quiet,
Silver sweep,
You fall in perfect sleep.
