Dream Job

Dream Job

I’ll softly caress the face of despair,

And boldly gather an armload of light,

So when my heart sings hymns celestial fair,

My dreams will walk on borders of the night.

I’ll taunt a great storm with a mocking grin,

And gather wind to fill an empty heart,

So when my soul writes symphonies within,

My dreams dance gaily so nightmares depart.

I’ll chase the shouting wind through endless skies,

And gather starlight sparkling with my tears,

So when my mind paints pictures for your eyes,

My dreams will cry to you across the years.

But don’t worry, when they try to reach you,

I’ll be mowing lawns at Machu Picchu.

Mick McKellar

July 2014

Have you ever tried to make sense of your dreams? I quit trying and just enjoy the travel. I was looking at an aerial photo of Machu Picchu the other day and noticed wonderful patches of green lawns among the ruins. I wondered: Who mows those lawns?

Mick