it was the evening sun dipping behind
yellow-gray clouds that brought you to me.
like long forgotten fingers
tracing over unknown dangers,
a terra pericolosa – three;
all the warnings of the old maps enshrined.
dragons be there. travel with caution. beware.
the edge of the world is much maligned.
yet this is where we fit
dangling our toes in the deep
waiting for the shark to snip.
taking hands as we leap,
with our fingers, like our hearts entwined.
the splashes we’ve made are all consigned
to the edge of our pool.
little one and little two,
both with hands so true,
that, though our chart was flawed,
like seeking youth1 with the maps of song2,
i trust that michael will guard them from wrong.
for dragons be there. travel with caution. beware.
© 2017 rl bussél