Dreams of Coming Home

Dreams of Coming Home

I wasn’t born and trained to fight a war,
And never sought redemption with a gun.
I tried to live in peace and nothing more,
But now my efforts have become undone.
My family and I must flee our home;
We live as ghosts and I’ve become a wraith.
We’re forced to quickly leave and blindly roam,
All lost, because we differ in our faith.
The pirates and the profiteers we meet,
Take all we have and leave us on our knees.
We plead for shelter, water, food to eat,
From people who see us as refugees.
To save our lives, we flee, we run away,
But dream of coming home some future day.

Mick McKellar
November 2015

We see them as refugees, and yet fear what we might see in their eyes.

Mick

Candles of the Darkest Nights

Candles of the Darkest Nights

Dear candles of the darkest nights,
Look down from shores so far away,
And glow with cold and distant lights,
That cast your fairy shadows, fey.

Your tiny lamps in velvet vault,
Caress my world, as diamonds flashed
Your mighty shimmer to exalt,
And glimmer grandly, unabashed.

Sweet raven arc of sable sky,
My window on the universe,
Draw forth my thoughts, cause them to fly,
My poesy afar disperse.

Mick McKellar
November 2015

Sometimes, I talk to the stars…

Mick

The Road Behind

The Road Behind

I traveled far to arrive at your camp,
Many a weary footfall behind me.
My burdens are light, but my feet are damp,
And for a visit, I'd thank you, kindly!

Fellow travelers rarely stop to share,
And so many carry such needless weight;
Their backs badly bent, near beyond repair,
As they hurry on, bearing all that freight.

The mud on my feet is from our shared road:
Dust of ages, soaked with blood, sweat, and tears;
Churned by their struggle , under heavy load,
Driven by passions, regrets, loves, and fears.

My right bag carries memories sublime,
One of only two bags carried by me.
The left bag has lessons learned over time,
Some unpleasant, but all necessary.

I'll share what little wisdom I can find:
Life travels toward its end, not to a place;
So I leave the long road behind, behind,
For life is a journey and not a race.

Mick McKellar
November 2015

We all journey along, but why carry such heavy baggage? And, why are you in such a hurry?

Mick

Why Don't We Fix It?

Why Don't We Fix It?

Humanity has created wonders,
Conquered diseases and learned how to fly.
We've also made some stupendous blunders,
Poisoning waters and staining the sky.
We live on a world that used to be vast,
With enough to share, if we were willing.
But instead of working to make it last,
We hoard it, protecting it by killing
Each other, in endlessly wasteful wars;
Spend our lives in hubris and invoke it
As cause, to choose what is mine, what is yours.
While fighting over our home, we broke it.
Before our actions take Earth and nix it,
Why on that Earth can't we work to fix it?

Mick McKellar
November 2015

Our stories, movies, and media are filled with images of a dystopic future. Instead of fulfilling that prophecy, we need to work to prevent it.

Mick

Bleak Thoughts

Bleak Thoughts

I gaze upon your sharply ragged word,
Inspired by little more than open fear;
And find its logic flawed, its claims absurd.
Its sound assaults the fortress of my ear.
Withal, you have the right to state your case,
To share the varied opinions you hold,
Proclaim your own beliefs in public place,
In language raw as skin bared to the cold.
Although awhile your followers will vie,
To be the first to grant your word acclaim;
The impact of your tantrums swiftly die,
When history and proven facts take aim.
And though your bleak thoughts surely will survive,
I hope that truth ensures they will not thrive.

Mick McKellar
November 2015

Sometimes, after reading my newsfeed, I need a shower.

Mick

Dark Freedom

Dark Freedom

As peaceful sleep encompasses my mind,
And daily problems vanish with the light,
My restless spirit dances on the wind,
And soars on darkling wings through endless night.
I slip the bonds that tie me to the Earth,
And cry with joy, for freedom of my flight
From chains of illness freed, a swift rebirth;
To spring aloft with newborn blissful might!
My phantom heart beats wildly in my chest;
My wings shine silver in icy starlight.
Upward I surge, with fearsome power blessed,
To climb, exultant, to an awesome height.
And spent, I drift in soft, silent delight,
By dreams borne until daybreak brings daylight.

Mick McKellar
November 2015

For some, only the power of dreams gives freedom from the chains of pain.

Mick

Song of Solitude

Song of Solitude

I wander paths labyrinthine;

I pass unheard, unfelt, unseen.

My presence, veiled, will not intrude;

I cloak myself in solitude.

To watch the world, not intervene,

Not provoke problems unforeseen,

By acts misguided, I pursued;

Are benefits of solitude.

My solitary quarantine,

Seems loneliness to contravene.

My solo brown studies allude,

To voluntary solitude.

Alone, I drift in dreams serene,

Through fields and forests evergreen,

Until my soul, a wraith renewed,

Can thrive obscured in solitude…

Mick McKellar

November 2015

I used to comment on every post and email with which I disagreed. I used to participate in long and fruitless arguments online and in person. These days, I occasionally fluster and bluster, but mostly I watch, I listen, and I learn. It is difficult for the spirit, but I find solace in my dreams and prayers.

Mick