The Guardian

Disquiet settled everywhere,
Though the night was so beautiful
That it almost took his breath away.
He felt an incessant pull.

Something was wrong in the world out there.
He hoped he could make it right.
He thought of the peace of his home and friends,
But he knew, as he faced this night,

The cold of the rain and this lonely night
Had need of his presence here.
Something was wrong in this world tonight.
His purpose would soon be clear.

He saw a small house at the end of a lane
And he pulled up outside its gate,
Feeling the tears of a desparate soul
And hoping he wasn't late.

He slipped inside to a darkened room
And stood by a single bed.
Someone lay shivering against the cold,
Not hearing his quiet tread.

It was a young boy in the quietness,
Trying so hard to be brave,
Trying to come to terms with his life.
In silence, the guardian gave

A touch of his hand, a touch of hope
And watched as the tears began;
Release for a boy who had seen too much,
Too young to become a man.

The guardian felt another change,
A subtle release of pain.
All that it took was the touch of a friend
To give the boy dreams again.


© 2002 Pam H. Murray

May 23, 2002