Song for the small hours

May there always be a friend

to write a letter —


always time for silence

between bars of music —


always more stories,

more music —


always a flock of birds

over the river —


always old maps

promising new journeys —


always an island at which to moor

and shade of trees.


May the lonely routine

bring wonder to strangers —


may every little room

open on wide worlds —


may all the years

be charts drawn in clear ink


and none of the clouds to come

veil the view from the summit.