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The Curator of Dreams

It is, perhaps, the noose
I put my own neck in

when I go to my children thinking
I might save them

from their nightmare dreams,
and so speak their names

gently, again and again
saying, "I love you"

stroking their hair
with such priestly care

I imagine old demon truth
would not dare

to fill their ears
with my own nightmare fears

telling them what we both
have begun to understand:

that there is
nothing I can do

to ease their pain,
but whisper

these words, my prayers,
their names.

...Michael S. Glaser