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RastislavKneziPoems
(a letter from the shelf) One sock vanished without a sound. No goodbye. No note was found. It simply listened through the night to something calling out of sight. It had no pair. A lonely fate. Yet in its threads there lived a wait A wish to rise, a wish to roam, a wish to find another home. To climb beyond the roofs above, to learn the names the moonbeams love. To drift where clouds & swallows fly, to borrow pieces of the sky. One night it spread a map below and chose a place it did not know. A bumblebee, woken from sleep, hummed: "Catch the dream! It's yours to keep." So off it went. Through dust and rain, through hidden corners of the plain. And day by day, and mile by mile, it drifted on a little wild. It learned the language of the trees, the hidden secrets of the breeze. It learned that winds have names as well, though none of them would ever tell. Soon it belonged to no one there. It turned to wing. It turned to air. It turned to something pure and bright a little spark inside the night. And tell me now if far away a voice should call your name one day, Would you follow? Would you go? Would you leave the things you know? To where the singing kettles gleam, and shadows weave a rainbow dream? You think he's lost beneath the bed? Or in a drawer, forgot instead? Oh no. He followed the wind he knew. Perhaps tonight he's drifting too. So if your feet should tingle tonight, just before sleep takes its flight, It's only him, passing by. A little sock dreaming sky.
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5d ago
May 31, 2026 at 9:49 PM UTC
The Sock Who Went Away to Dream
(a letter from the shelf) One sock vanished without a sound. No goodbye. No note was found. It simply listened through the night to something calling out of sight. It had no pair. A lonely fate. Yet in its threads there lived a wait A wish to rise, a wish to roam, a wish to find another home. To climb beyond the roofs above, to learn the names the moonbeams love. To drift where clouds & swallows fly, to borrow pieces of the sky. One night it spread a map below and chose a place it did not know. A bumblebee, woken from sleep, hummed: "Catch the dream! It's yours to keep." So off it went. Through dust and rain, through hidden corners of the plain. And day by day, and mile by mile, it drifted on a little wild. It learned the language of the trees, the hidden secrets of the breeze. It learned that winds have names as well, though none of them would ever tell. Soon it belonged to no one there. It turned to wing. It turned to air. It turned to something pure and bright a little spark inside the night. And tell me now if far away a voice should call your name one day, Would you follow? Would you go? Would you leave the things you know? To where the singing kettles gleam, and shadows weave a rainbow dream? You think he's lost beneath the bed? Or in a drawer, forgot instead? Oh no. He followed the wind he knew. Perhaps tonight he's drifting too. So if your feet should tingle tonight, just before sleep takes its flight, It's only him, passing by. A little sock dreaming sky.
From : Tales from the Other Side of the Pillow (for kids and grownups where kids live) Second Door: Where Socks Grow (about forgotten things and dreams)
RastislavKnezi
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RastislavKnezi
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5d ago
May 31, 2026 at 9:49 PM UTC
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