Deeper Narnia

Where can I find a wardrobe of my own,
A doorway in this world to worlds beyond,
To places known by such as these? The child
I was could there a while in peace abscond
From corners harder, firmer, and more wild

To dreams more true than all the restless wars
That plague this grown-up heart of mine
With wounds and work, the tiresome daily toils,
Where coldness comes defining wintertime
And from the light its soul in fear recoils

As if to not be overcome. And I,
A shadow of that dying little boy,
In need of Lucy with her cordial strong,
Am lacking nothing needed but the joy
Of living, being right where I belong.

O Aslan, will you call again to me
And bring to life the deadness of my mind,
That I, this disenchanted man, may know
The deeper pleasures of a place more kind
And good? Make me to deeper Narnia go.