Saturday, February 24, 2018


I'd slept ten hours alone in my bed,
Motionless, silent, as though I were dead.
Words had no meaning and nothing was said;
My dreams were drifting around in my head.

Moments soared endlessly, timeless, pristine.
Sunlight streamed soundlessly, soft and serene.
Bright mountain snow fell on trees evergreen;
Slowly I drifted, detached and unseen.

People I knew well, who long since have passed,
Walked among gardens with flowers amassed.
I saw each one, just as I saw them last,
They didn't see me as I drifted past.

Things that I did long before I grew old:
In short, poignant movies, watched them unfold.
Some were warm blessings, others left me cold,
I could but drift as the stories were told.

Heartbreaking stories had caused me to cry,
Tears so profuse, the deluge drained me dry;
Others so happy, joy made me so high,
I drifted aloft in soft azure sky!

Softly, I woke at the birth of the day,
Quietly pondering, nothing to say.
I grabbed a pen to take notes as I lay,
Before the memories drifted away.

I caught their essence in this small sachet,
Before the story just drifted away...

Mick McKellar
February 2018

I sleep longer and deeper now than ever before in my life. Because I also dream more and longer, I spend more time writing them down. Some, I share...before they drift away.