Description:

From a new poetry book by Magdalena Ball and Carolyn Howard-Johnson
http://www.compulsivereader.com/html/images/she_wore_emerald_then.htm

In the restless night
when mortality lurks in every shadow
the blanket won’t cover your fear
and morning is a half-forgotten dream
vague and uncertain,
slink into my bed
the pillow holds a mother’s secret
whispered charm
you can sink your head into.

There are no demons here;
no whirlwind of memory and anticipation clouding
sleep
only eternal warmth
a shared space
free from the ticking illusion
of time, motion, and change.

Here, where you are always welcome
nothing matters
except this peace
this place
containing every possible now.