Child of mine, lost

in worlds not of my making.

Would that I could

steal into those worlds with you,

Caper through valleys,

chasing dragons and dreams.

Or scale a mountain and together

stand silent at a sunrise

plump with promise,

While I watch its light and joy break into

those dark eyes of hidden places.


I would speak to you then

in the land’s wild tongue.

Catch echoes of my love

whispered back on a distant breeze.

Perhaps your world resounds already

with songs and laughter,

wrought in night-and-day dreams.

And my voice?

My voice is all but lost to you.


Yet, still I will come,

Running and chasing.

Declaring devotion.

And always,


marvelling at the mystery:

Child of mine.


Poem by Joan Campbell / Image from Shutterstock