On Toys in Bed

As sleep is likened to death,

I liken my son to Tutankhamen. 

On voyage to the world beyond. 

Each night clutching newly
treasured objects to the purpose: 

A boat to sail, a spaceship,

planes to fly. 

A beloved mate, a co-pilot.

A kitchen implement, for sword,
or cooking on the journey?

A voyage on a nameless way, 

New, and negotiated each night alone. 

Toward a sea, overflowing with surprise.

Play, delight, feats impossible in gravity; 

Irritations mundane, feelings unbound.

Warm love remembered, 

Fears, the impossible, realized.

We lull him each in our way, at our turn.

Tell stories, Sing lullabies, 

hymns of Hermes. 

Give in to a bit of banter.

 By his side, we soften his grip on the oars, 

Allay swells of anxiety - we gods of his sea.  

Darkness, the void, overtakes his vessel. 

Until morning, king. Go in peace, 

We wish you safest passage.