Despite the weight of five cats all purring enchantment and sleep songs She woke in the night to worry, and rising we all walked out into the midnight garden. The sky was dark as the blackest cat and the moon so bright we could see both the crescent and the whole of the moon. A river of pale stars glowed in a rainbow arc across the darkness and an owl circled, made visible only by the sound of excited hunting cries. Leaves, silvered by pale moonlight, danced in the merest breath of breeze.
We stood, small as small in the universe and troubles melted into darkness.
Back in the bed we tried to curl around Her head as She read. And as She read a forest grew all around, and wolf hounds unfurled from pages, pale children, a beautiful girl, a magic handsome man with eyes as dark as the night sky and all the ways of the woods written in his quiet mind, a white horse, all filled the room and we marveled at the magic of books.
Showing posts with label Meg Rosoff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Meg Rosoff. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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