If I Could
(I imagine a classic, fine drawing style, with lots of white line on dark backgrounds, but up to artist. And, for this one, their imagination… Dedicated to Maurice Sendak)
These are the things I’d give to you.
If I could.
The moon. I’d tuck it in your pocket.
It’s shadow and romance,
so you could use it whenever you needed it most.
I’d put a lone, distant owl in there, too.
Maybe in your shirt pocket, instead.
The moon looks better when you can hear a lone, distant owl.
The owl I would give you,
if I could,
would call to the sea… which would push forward a boat.
And on that boat, when you needed it most, you could sail away,
as if the world was your moat.
If I could I’d give you adventure. Strange creatures on an island.
Beasts, full of fun. Dancing.
Creatures that said nothing, just accepted you.
If I could I’d give you leaves. The sort that fall in autumn, like easy, never-ending rain.
Dropped by tree gods.
You’d like them.
Nobody talks about tree gods but you. The way their legs look like giant trunks.
I’d give you fairies,
if I could.
to lead you through the night.
To whisper little things you feel rather than know.
I’d give you a folk song, written by us,
so 1,000 years from now people could sing it,
and wonder about moons and owls and creatures, and tree gods with trunks for legs.
And feel you next to them, by the fire.
I’d give you the stars, all of them. Just the way they are.
If I could.
So you might lose yourself.
So you might stare at them in awe. Imagining.
So you might find a way home.
If I could I’d touch your cheek as you slept.
Give you a hug.
For no reason at all. For love.