Beneath the boughs where whispers glow,
And silver leaves like secrets flow,
The moon reclines in autumn’s den
To light the path to Neverwhen.
Through amber dusk and twilight’s seam,
Where memory folds into velvet dream,
The pumpkins hum a soft amen,
For those who dream of Neverwhen.
No clock may chime, no star descend,
Where time begins and does not end
Yet hearts recall, again, again,
The road that leads to Neverwhen.
Each lantern guards a wish untold,
Each flame a spark of dreams grown old,
They flicker bright, then fade, and then
Are born anew in Neverwhen.
The trees lean close, their branches bend,
To shelter those who dare to wend,
Past mortal dusk, beyond our ken,
Into the hush of Neverwhen.
And should you hear a shadow sing,
Or feel the brush of unseen wing,
Take heart, dear soul, it’s only then
You’ve truly found the Neverwhen.
~ Morgan C. Morgan
Writer of light, shadow, and the stories between.
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