Stone Pillows

Sleep has become a major factor in my life. With apologies to the musical group, it may be part of my chemical romance with chemotherapy, high-dose steroids, and up to 24 medications per day. I've been slowly sorting through major tangles in my web of memories and searching about in dark spaces where shelved, codified, and indexed experiences ought to dwell in well dusted peace. Though fraught (as in the song, Sleep) with nightmares and even night terrors, my rest has wrought the wonder of recollection.

As I lay wrapped tightly in my blankets -- I keep my bedroom a bit chilly, to make breathing easier -- a night or two ago, I was beset with images earlier than any I previously remembered. I remembered being cold and cuddled, fed and fondled, and beset with grinning faces full of large teeth. I remembered the spastic agony and ecstasy of having my feet tickled -- a sensation I was to lose forever only a few months later. As I continue my search for lost or misplaced reels from the movie of my life, such gifts remind me to pay special attention to the unknown number of reels that remain.

Still, I love to watch reruns of my favorite memories, and sometimes to share them. I wonder, when I finally fall asleep, will I dream?

Mick

Stone Pillows

Images of my arrival on Earth,
Dance as they rise from my mind far beneath;
Flickering memories about my birth:
Cold, soft pillows, and faces...and teeth!
My experiences of days long past,
Among the few treasures I truly own,
Return to inhabit my dreams at last --
As my tally of days has quickly grown.
I treasure the gift I'm given each day:
My memoirs unfolding within my mind.
They comfort me in a most special way,
As the last reels of my movie unwind.
I'll leave the weeping to wind and willows,
And I'll fall asleep on cold, stone pillows.

Mick McKellar
January 2013