Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Awake, Adrift, Yet Under Way

Awake in snowy fog of early morn,
Windows ablaze with grey ambient light,
My dreams of realms where old magic was born,
Return to dim and drifting thoughts of night.
Now cast adrift on pewter twilit seas,
Without a sextant, ship's clock, map or chart,
Nor crew, to hearken to the captain's pleas;
I set a course to mark my journey's start.
I drift from port, alone upon the stair,  
And ride the cataract to galley bright,
Whose harbor welcomes me to heave-to there;
With breakfast on the quay a welcome sight!
From darkness into brilliant light of day,
The voyage of my life is under way.

Mick McKellar
December 2021

Early morning in midwinter is a world heralded by shades of grey, silver, and white. To awaken within the fog of dreams is to be cast upon a colorless sea with little sense of direction. I can always find the kitchen by drifting down the stairs, and breakfast may be waiting on me...