Do wake me from a dream, when it is time,
that this may be as this may seem, and more.
Take us to sleep, for sweetness, and rhyme,
for another day, another age, hour by hour.
It is light and the morning like times before,
just and right to behold their simple power.
It is a grey day, an eagle upon the starry sky,
light upon us now, and we are young anew.
A summer eve, which never ends, and why,
in the green of June and July, we bear light.
Clear as water, your eyes and morning dew,
your breath as a song and birds before night.
Run with me now in the fields and laughter,
the time is ours and as yet would never end.
Wait for me here, a hundred years and after,
star of my day, light of my sky, so beautiful.
No more hope could I have, it is this I send,
memories of yesterday and a heart once full.
You are unmoved in the wind, like a flower,
like a leaf, before the storm, strong and still.
And for a smile you would defy their power,
hurrying me home through the winter cold.
It is hope that sustains me, an act of the will,
for you and yesterday, every day til I am old.
Brian Francis Hudon
January 9, 2012