The Lullaby’s Fable from the Half-Forgotten Dream

First, the mist brightens.
The lullaby is missing its magic glow
of fireflies, its wild fable,
its wonder.
The breath empties,
sheer kindness replaces the rainbow’s arc
above dove-grey clouds.

My lungs confuse grief with love.
My jade prayers murmur till sunrise.
Life.
Lost.
Loss.
I burn the roots and see joy,
a heart-shaped swath of blue
in the space between clouds.