Of Beginnings and Endings and Beginnings Again
Once Upon a Time is a classic beginning
to classical tales story-tellers love spinning.
It sets everyone’s mind to an earlier time,
younger and smaller, a whole other clime.
When Mother and Father would tuck one in bed,
thumbing through books from which they then read.
A nightly occurrence that soothed a child’s soul,
the calming repetition with sleep as its goal.
And how the mind wandered and how it took flight,
to fairyland towers, knight’s armor so bright,
and fairytale princesses, scoundrels and princes
and some wicked-smart animal that eas’ly convinces
our hero to try, to be daring and dauntless,
to challenge the villain, to throw down the gauntlet,
to rescue the victims of ogres or giants,
to find other heroes and make an alliance.
All of the stories we were (hopefully) told
taught us morals and ethics more precious than gold.
And if we are good parents, we do the same,
share adventurous stories with sleep as the aim.
For though they may sleep, they surely will dream
of being the hero in a fairy-tale scheme.
Of being the person whose heart, filled with good,
would stand up for right, as good people should.
And then upon waking, it might make them stronger.
It might make them think, just a little bit longer
about all their actions, about all their deeds,
and to recognize evil and where meanness leads.
It’ll make them be steady, tenacious and tough.
It will help them get through all the days that are rough.
And when in some future, well planned out life,
they’ll think about kids with their husband or wife,
and remember with fondness their tender upbringing
and stride into parenthood, full armor, sword ringing.