To Sing The Story of the Night

To Sing The Story of the Night

    Are all dark nights truly empty?
    Soundless skies say nothing to me.
    Perhaps they are only waiting:
    For patient hand, or restless mind,
    To sow amid the sweet silence,
    To write upon velvet softness;
    For willing arms to reach out, and
    Gather harvest from out the stars.

    Does timid silence rule the night?
    As fleeting thoughts dance, dart, and play
    Mid lights — of silver, blue, red, gold,
    I climb the towering darkness.
    I glean the precious, fabled fruit;
    To hoard, to cherish, then to share.
    Saved in my sweet, elusive dreams,
    Such grandeur, idle fantasy.

    To free my mind is all I ask —
    To hear sweet music in each light,
    And courage to complete my task:
    To sing the story of the night.

Mick McKellar
September 2016

I love to gaze at stars in a velveteen sky, and see the serenade, the majestic music of starlight in the darkness. What I capture and share is but a pale portrait of colors without name and music that moves the spirit.

Mick