Heliophobia

The golden tongue of the hungry old sun,
Licked my thin skin til it tasted of brine.
It roasted my fresh flesh, and just for fun
Made my blood turgid as badly mulled wine.
Endeav'ring apace to shelter my face,
I wore a large hat with a massive brim.
I did with dark fabrics my limbs encase,
Sunblock was slathered on every limb.
But sunblock rubs off on clothing and bed.
Dark clothes and hats can be dreary attire.
Thinking of sunlight as something to dread,
Just feels wrong to me, sets my mind on fire.
My Daedalus says to follow advice!
My Icarus tells me sunshine is nice...

Mick McKellar
June 2024

Moonlight

The sky feels alive when the moon shines bright,
Limning the trees with white and quicksilver.
It amplifies the grandeur of the night,
Slowly adrift on a star filled river.

Baleful and pale its countenance shimmers,
Oft making the darkness scamper away,
Revealing insects, swift airborne swimmers,
Hiding from night hunters after their prey.

Fleet foragers foray forth and they dance,
From silver gray shadow to branch and leaf.
They skip and dance across pale-lit expanse,
Though some of their dances are dire and brief.

The moon sails along on its merry way,
Sharing silver magic, both fair and fey.

Mick McKellar
June 2024

Making Do

I have suspended mufflers from the ground,
By wrapping them with bailing wire around.
I've patched a rusty hole big as your thumb,
With packing tape and black Rustoleum.
I've fixed a hole in rusty floorboard worn,
With roofing from our barn in a storm torn;
And fixed a broken window (one or two),
With sheets of Visqueen, clamps, and super glue.
I'll drive my patched-up vehicles around,
And wait for used car prices to come down.

Mick McKellar
June 2024

Peace Is Made At The Dinner Table

From the divine flame, we are sparks that fly,
Alike more than not, under the vast sky.
Diversity blooms in the gardens of mind,
In colors we wear, and thoughts that we find.

Mirrored ideas, in other's eyes seen,
As half-formed thoughts, in your works are now keen.
The mystery lies not in our varied prayer,
But in common truths that diverse creeds share.

Philosophers ponder, splitting hairs fine,
Seek borders and conflicts to draw a line.
Human rights, survival, a common thread,
In labyrinthian tapestries, quickly spread.

Conflicts arise, from differences sown,
In race, wealth, culture, their seeds overblown.
Yet stories tell, of strong hatreds unmade,
When common foes are together waylaid.

Peace talks falter, from top to ground,
In macro terms, solutions are bound.
But perhaps the answer lies in the meek,
Building bridges, as the human spirit seeks.

For in each encounter, face to face,
We find our humanity, our collective grace.
If we but start small, with the one next door,
Perhaps peace will spread, from shore to shore.

Mick McKellar
June 2024

From a short essay I wrote on October 16, 1995 and shared with Edupage on a daily email weblog (a text precursor to a podcast).

Mick

To a Noisy Woodpecker

How can a woodpecker be so dumb?
Thinks my metal chimney is a drum?
But, I think he does it just for fun,
"Rat-a-tat," just like a machine gun!

Looking for your food? Save a penny.
My tin chimney doesn't have any.
Looking to build a small, cozy nest?
Shiny metal tubes are not the best.

Sending out a message, far and wide:
"My territory! You stay outside!"
Or maybe it's that old bird bromide:
"I'm looking for a woodpecker bride!"

Feeding, nesting, or territory,
Beating on my chimney bothers me.
Whatever your urgent message be,
Please go hammer it on a real tree!

Mick McKellar
June 2024
 

A Gifting of Borrowed Hearts

Through tender trades and heartfelt debts,
We gift our hearts without regrets.
A beat, a fleeting warmth we share,
In hopes that love may flourish there.

Ev'ry throb, a promise spoken,
Cherished 'til the bond is broken.
For hearts, though not our own, impart
The truths of love's enduring art.

Given with no thought of sorrow,
Borrowed hearts create tomorrow.
In giving love, we find our parts:
The timeless dance of borrowed hearts.

Mick McKellar
June 2024
 

I Found You In The Quiet of My Soul

I found You in the quiet of my soul.
I heard Your whisper bless the stars at night,
And though discovery was not my goal,
I found a love that makes my life so right.

I pray to You with gratitude and pleas,
Your gospel echoes deep within my heart.
Knowing your love has set my soul at ease,
And caused my fears and worries to depart.

Lord, I cannot conceive the infinite,
Nor can I understand Your mighty ways,
But Your creation is magnificent!
The glory of Your works fills all my days!

Yet, there remains the smallest gift of all,
Perhaps, most precious of His gifts for me:
To wake each day, to answer morning’s call,
And pray: “Thanks, Lord, for this sweet gift for me!”

Mick McKellar
June 2024