Amazing Dreams: The Old Man on the Hill

I stood on a hill overlooking the world,
And the world looked up at me,
In my raggedy jeans,
In my t-shirt covered with my dog's fur,
In my sagging socks,
In my wispy hair fluttering faintly,
In the sun.
And in my crusty, crackling whisper I said,
"I can not cry for you!"
For I had no tears to shed for them.

And they laughed...

Their bloated, bleary and bulging faces,
Shining with a ghoulish light of hilarity,
Bathed in self-indulgence,
Born in unfocused hunger,
Bred in fear and hate,
Glared in focused rictus --
Uttering a hideous growl of mirthless laughter
At the old man on the hill,
Who had no tears for them.

And they blamed...

Eight billion minds burned a hole in my chest.
Eight billion hearts poured their grief in my soul.
Eight billion voices cried my name in their rage.
And I threw my arms wide,
So none could miss.

My hand brushed the moon as I reached for stars;
My arms gathered light from ages past,
And wisdom from those who walked there.
My heart hummed with joy,
As I comforted all,
And I found the tears,
To shed for all humankind.

Mick McKellar
September 2021

Amazing what one can do in one's dreams.

Mick