Wake

Wake, young man,
Wake among the trees.
The mead is drunk,
The snow is fallen,
The folk are on their knees.
‘Tis the day of death, the day of birth,
The earth stands still for thee.

Hold them close, they are yours,
And you are theirs in kind.
We sing our songs, we share our meals, 
With dreams still in our mind.

Bless this time,
This time of warmth,
This time of cheer and glee.
Not your first,
Perhaps your last,
But here today indeed.

So bring them close,
Hold them tight,
For they are yours to keep.
In silence do you show your love,
Soon enough, you’ll sleep. 

-Trevor Riedl