Midnight Philosophy
~Trisha Lockhart~

My daughter crept downstairs at midnight
trailing fears from a child's questioning dream.
Drying tears from her well of confusion
I held her safe-she resurrected my dread.

Where will I go when I'm gone? Is it dark there?
To a room filled with strangers or friends?
I think I was a horse in another lifetime.
Was I born just to die in the end?

(I remember the gut wrenching terror
sensing extinction that very first time-
visions of absolute blackness-
loss of self in the infinite sadness

Out of cowardice I wanted to cheer her,
provide magic words to chant against fear,
comfort myself by telling bright stories,
but her trust demanded respect.

(I remember seeking the same answers
asking any and all who stood still-
gathering platitudes and placebos for hours-
none providing words I needed to hear.)

She asked me questions without easy answers
I gave her answers to questions unasked.
Together we unearthed no great secrets
but found peace in the present at last.

My daughter crept downstairs at midnight.
Together at one we went up.
Tucking her in, I kissed her gently: magic.
Smiling, she held my hand and slept.

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© Copyright 1999 Trisha Lockhart