Wednesday, November 04, 2009

I'd Love To...

I remember looking out the back door, early on a summer's morning, when the sun's daybreak fire gleamed and sparkled from millions of dew drops on the grass. The desire to run barefoot through that shimmering sea of light tore at my heart, as I was forbidden to dance in the diamond light and soak my clothes or get my feet wet in the chilly dawn. The rules were clear and enforced. An adventure walking in cold rain led to pneumonia and a hospital stay. I learned.

There are so many things that, in my heart, I would love to do, to experience, to drink in. Yet, there is this small voice in the back of my mind, which warns me about letting go, about releasing preconceived notions about the world which exist to filter and buffer and protect. Nurture suppressing nature, I hesitate, and a moment is lost forever. Oh, I know there are a thousand urges and desires to fulfill, and a million wonders to experience — most of which are illegal, immoral, or fattening. Although my good sense and training restrains me from just letting go
the fact remainsI'd love to...


I'd Love To...

I'd love to play on the lawn,

But the grass is wet from morning dew:

Bright nervous tears shed at dawn,

By angels crying for me and you.

I'd love to stand in the rain,

But mother said I will catch a cold:

From teardrops falling in pain

The sky depressed about growing old.

I'd love to jump in the snow,

But my boots will fill up with the stuff:

Memories frozen, to sow

Cloud-borne secrets grown heavy enough.

I'd love to walk with the wind,

But it's fingers will push me along:

Barristers sent, to rescind

Whispers voiced by its quicksilver song.

I'd love to lie in the sun,

But its hot touch will redden my skin:

Rivers of light swiftly run,

Softly warming where eddies sink in.

I'd love to shuffle through leaves,

But the wind will just blow them around:

Summer departs, Autumn grieves,

And their thick blanket covers the sound.

I'd love to listen to stars,

But the darkness calls to my spirit:

Music of the heavens jars

Loose the souls of all those who hear it.

I'd love to simply let go,

But I must surrender completely:

Allow my nature to show,

But my nurture simply won't let me.

Mick McKellar

November 2009

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