Monday, March 03, 2014

Dream Life






Dream Life

I dreamed a dream that made me cry,
Although it was about me living,
Because the price of life was high
A cost that there was no forgiving.

I never woke up with a smile,
Instead my eyes were red from crying.
I told my fam'ly all the while,
I was OK, but I was lying.

For in my dream I was not nice,
My life was something I was buying.
For ev'ry day there was a price:
Each day I lived someone was dying.

Before my eyes would open wide,
I saw the victim I was robbing;
I felt the terror rise inside,
And heard each martyr softly sobbing.

I felt when each heart beat its last;
I knew the moment each was sinking.
It never happened very fast,
I knew the fear each one was thinking.

I saw the horror in their eyes,
And felt the pain as life was taken.
Then I would wake to take my prize,
And start the day completely shaken.

At first I did not understand,
Why I was given to such dreaming,
And why my life would death demand,
With no forgiveness, no redeeming.

I felt the terror late each night,
As I grew listless and so tired;
I could not once evade my plight,
The deal my suffering inspired.

So it continued day-to-day,
I earned the wages of my scheming.
My guilt would never go away,
My spirit ached from silent screaming.

Until at last I yearned for death,
I cried and hoped someone was list'ning;
Til I could barely catch my breath,
My face was wet, my eyes were glist'ning.

I offered up my life to pay,
The price for all the lives I'd stolen.
My voice was terrible and fey,
My eyes were desolate and swollen.

As I was screaming in the dark,
A sudden, golden light was glowing,
Upon my visage bleak and stark
Its touch was peace and love bestowing.

A sound of beauty touched my heart.
A touch of wonder filled my being:
My veil of darkness torn apart,
By all the splendor I was seeing.

And then I felt my soul take flight,
Away from fear that left me reeling.
I flew directly toward the light,
And loved the love that I was feeling.

I woke up safely in my bed,
And thanked the Lord I was not dead.
Mick McKellar
March 2014

Sometimes, my dreams can be more frightening than my strongest fear, and yet so inspirational they leave me with a sense of wonder.