On Eugene Field’s ‘Wynken, Blynken and Nod’

So shut your eyes while Mother sings

Of wonderful sights that be,

And you shall see the beautiful things

As you rock in the misty sea.

—Eugene Field, “Winken, Blynken and Nod”

There was a time when sleep

was not just rest but a voyage,

a tender surrender

to voices that carried me

across waves of moonlight,

through skies embroidered with stars.

Mother’s song was the ship—

steady, soft, unyielding—

guiding me beyond the edges

of my small, loud world

to where dreams drifted free

and magic was not a story

but the air I breathed.

In those moments, I was weightless—

a sailor cradled by mist,

safe from storms of waking thought,

floating in a sea of gentle sound.

And now, when the night spills silence,

I close my eyes and listen,

hoping to find again

that place where wonder waits—

where the beautiful things still shine

beneath the hush of a lullaby.