Soft nightwinds brush the meadows in my mind,
Stirring dream shadows across darkling moors,
Where foxfire illuminates paths I find,
Lest I swiftly stumble through twilight tours.
My nocturnal pilgrimages alone,
Which scarcely require that my feet touch ground,
Lead hither to otherwheres unbeknown,
For I have no clue where I may be bound.
The path that I choose as I close my eyes,
And reach for the essence that spins my dreams,
May lead me to truth or to myths and lies,
And nothing is ever quite what it seems.
I savor my journeys to otherwhere,
And I fondly dream I might tarry there.
Mick McKellar
February 2015
I sleep more now, than I ever did before. Yet, my dreams are wonders to behold, grand stories and marvelous journeys on the soft winds of the night.
Mick
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