Cloudburst

I truly enjoy listening to rain tapping on the roof, especially when I don't have to go out into the wet weather. Walking along in the rain, when there is no wind, and you have an umbrella, can be an enjoyable experience -- but how often does that happen? At home, in the Keweenaw, I most often see rain moving sideways, being driven by a storm wind, and fighting an umbrella under those circumstances adds frustration to the whole soggy experience.

Today started with a slow, but steady rain, and I decided to try driving my car for the first time since January. All was fine until the return trip to the Gift of Life Transplant House, when the sky opened up and let loose a torrent which made vision near impossible in downtown Rochester traffic. However, I passed the test. Five minutes after I parked the car, the rain stopped and the sun came out. I like rain, I really do...but it can be overdone.

Mick

Cloudburst

I love to quietly listen to rain,

Tapping softly on our roof when falling.

The natural rhythms sky tears sustain,

To the music in my heart is calling.

And when in sync, the flow is powerful,

To make a pewter-gray day a jewel;

Instead of the dreary, drab, and hour-full,

Tests of patience so many find cruel.

To walk in a light rain is a pleasure,

If there's no wind, and you've an umbrella.

A bubble of dryness is a treasure,

To a slightly damp, but happy fella;

Not because the other walkers are damp,

From each dripping head to each soggy shoe,

As through falling sky-dew they're forced to tramp.

But then again, I smile -- maybe that's true...

Still there are times I find rain abhorrent,

Especially when I am caught outside,

And unzipped clouds pour forth in a torrent:

A deluge leaving me no place to hide!

I trudge along, taking a cold shower

In my clothes, but that may not be the worst;

Try driving a car, through traffic's power,

When near blinded by a sudden cloudburst.

In other words, I really love the rain;

But when overdone, it can be a pain.

Mick McKellar

May 2011

Senescence

I've been thinking about growing older, a subject not in vogue for most of the last year, considering the challenges and uncertainty of those twelve months. However, it appears that, with the aid of modern medical chemistry and the application of multiple layers of paranoia about germs, I must consider getting older a possible outcome of the transplant process.

I've noticed changes that track very closely with those experienced by the older members of my family and some of my friends. Some nights, like a broken toy doll, if you sit me up my eyes close. If you lay me down, my eyes open. Ambient temperature has finally become a factor in my life, and I cannot determine why my eyebrows are reaching out from my face, as though to grab something. Always a dependable friend in the past, stairways have become my nemesis, for the steps appear to be propagating.

Maybe it's just me and my radical, new, senescent perspective on the world around me.

Mick

Senescence

I walk outside on a warm, sunny day,

And a sudden breeze make my skin feel cold.

On the sidewalk, I'm always in the way,

And why are all my young friends looking old?

I go to bed and I lie awake, wired;

Yet, ten minutes ago, dozed in a chair.

I sleep for long hours and wake up still tired.

Is my rest leaking out of me somewhere?

The hair on my head very slowly grows,

And stops in certain wide open spaces;

Yet it grows thick and quickly in my nose,

And other very unlikely places.

And though I've seen no construction, I swear,

They've made stairways longer everywhere.

Mick McKellar

May 2011

Personal Rapture

When Roger Whittaker sings The First Hello, The Last Goodbye, I am always struck by the line: "They say the moment that you're born, is when you start to die." We forget that life is a temporary job and could lose that job without a lot of notice. Young people seem to have little sense of danger or personal mortality. Older people sometimes seem to simply give up and let their lease expire.

For those threatened by a disease or disaster which could or will end that life, the initial reaction (at least in my case) is fear of losing everything and of dying alone. However, many discover that by living each day as a gift, and as though it may be your last, you can live in the present, the precious present, and not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow is in God's hands and is His present to bestow.

Mick

Personal Rapture

It's so easy to lose track of the fact,

That we all have an expiration date.

Little wonder so many of us act,

As if life and health remain on our plate,

Until we decide that the meal is done.

Invulnerable, we think, in our youth,

Many seek out thrills for life is boring;

And in our old age, though we sense the truth.

We spend a great deal of our time snoring,

Or worse, we end up spending it alone.

For those whose illnesses threaten their lives,

Fragile veils of self-deception shatter.

The loss of children, of husbands, of wives,

Of leaving behind the things that matter,

Fills their hearts with fear for when they are gone.

The precious present, for those who find it.

Is treasure beyond any Earthly store.

Some day they will die, but they don't mind it,

Living each day as if gifted one more,

Loving the gift as though it's the last one.

Mick McKellar

May 2011

Crystal Bridges

I have long believed that, when we think about someone we care for, a connection is forged that is untouched and unstained by distance and time. Concern, compassion, and love are powerful emotions that, at least momentarily, change our state of being from internalized thought to a broadcast channel of immense power. The closer we are to each other, the more we can "feel the love," and sense the underlying compassion and concern. A hug can be a life changing event.

Sometimes, when I pray, I can feel a connection with God -- the slightest, ephemeral whisper of a touch, yet overwhelmingly real and profound. Perhaps it is but the yearning of my heart to reach out and touch the face of God, or maybe He simply took my call. And someday, when I am done here, and go home, I am hoping for a universe changing hug.

Mick

Crystal Bridges

In a dream, I saw a bright glowing world,

A crystalline network, arches aglow,

Uncountable brilliant branches unfurled,

Flashing in myriad colors below.

For each glowing soul, the power of light,

Just waited to be given direction.

With each kind thought a crystal bridge took flight,

Forging a momentary connection,

A glistening conduit, bright gleaming,

Unseen, with whomever they thought about;

And a power surge, silently beaming,

Delivered the good they were sending out.

The image that warmed my own heart so much?

Each soul grew brighter with each gleaming touch.

Mick McKellar

May 2011

Honoring the Gift

I am a lucky man to have friends and family who care about me at a time when I could spend all my hours feeling sorry for myself. Yet, I do not feel sorry for myself. During and while enduring the challenges of my illness, I learned a valuable life lesson. I have learned to live in the present.

For each new day is for me a gift from God. I strive to make the most of each one and to live each day to the fullest and to honor the gift of each new day.

Mick

Honoring the Gift

The joy of a sunrise near breaks my heart,

As the early light so wan yet pleasant,

Gives me the strength and the power, to start

Planning to make the most of my present.

For that precious present is all I need,

To fire my spirit and blood to rise,

So my tree of life, now a tiny seed,

In a single day can reach to the skies.

And if in that single day I can find,

Another soul in distress or in pain.

And in giving love and compassion, kind,

Offer solace sincere from stress and strain,

Without worry or doubt about short shrift,

I have given honor to God's great gift.

Mick McKellar

May 2011

Faith, Love, Music

Sometimes I wake in the wee hours of the morning, my mind churning away on a problem or trying to make sense of the daily nonsense of life. Last night, I was dream-pondering about the relationship between music, faith, and love. Do they exist apart, or are they so entwined with the human heart that to remove one weakens the others? Yes, one could write music with no faith or love in the title or song lyrics, but from where springs the creative spark?

Academically, one can separate them, as one separates egg whites from yolks. In my heart and my life experience, faith vibrates in my soul, love soars with the beauty and power of a symphony, and under, around, and within it all is the music of my life. Even this biological shell I inhabit vibrates with electrical discharges and maintains a magnet field of sorts, a wondrous electrochemical entity. The music of the universe, God's music lives in me.

Mick

Faith, Love, Music

Awake in the dark still hours of the night,
I listened to the music in my heart,
And wondered could it possibly be right:
Can faith, love, and music exist apart?
The essence of all that I am says, "No!"
For music is more than notes on a page.
The triumph of song lets my spirit go,
Beyond the borders of illness or age.
For when I love, my spirit simply sings,
Severed from fetters and free to take flight.
Faith touches my soul with warm golden strings,
That resonate with pure love day and night.
Each treasured prayer that I pray is a song;
It lives in my heart, it has all along.

Mick McKellar
May 2011

Eye to Eye

I must check carefully in the mirror each morning, to look for signs of changes to report to my doctors. Each morning, I search and each morning I find one unreportable change. I swear there is a different me looking back from the bathroom mirror. Oh, the face changes a bit, brought on by treatment with certain medications, and there is a bit of new beard to remove. But, there is something deeper.

It is in my eyes. Each day my eyes are frighteningly different to me. Having survived another day, and finding that God has granted me yet another day to live, brings a wistfulness and joy simultaneously that somehow deepens the depths of those familiar brown orbs and maybe the light flickering in those depths burns a bit brighter. Maybe I just expect to find fear, anxiety, and deep sadness there, and I don't find them...just the knowledge that I have another day to live.

Mick

Eye to Eye

The image in my mirror keeps changing,

Each morning, I rise to face a new face.

It's not that the parts are rearranging,

Or this morning, my nose found a new place,

Like somewhere behind my left ear to hide...

And yet, they are shocking to realize,

When I focus on the place they reside.

Look past the bright bathroom lights and the glare,

When I stare into the depths of my eyes,

And shiver, for that's not me standing there;

Though he looks like me, the right shape, right size,

But the eyes focus much farther away,

Grown wistful, deeper, and darker each day.

Mick McKellar

May 2011