Thursday, January 20, 2022

I Brushed My Hand On Heaven’s Dome

An angel whispered in my ear
Last night, as I lay down to sleep.
He spoke a language crisp and clear;
His voice, both powerful and deep.

The stars were singing through his voice;
A music ancient, and yet young.
My soul caught fire, and made a choice
To harmonize beyond my tongue.

My spirit soared with harmonies,
Beyond the walls of our small home.
I touched the Earth, the snow, the trees;
I brushed my hand on Heaven’s dome.

I sang the music of the stars --
The glory of the universe.
Until discord from constant wars,
From greed and hatred made it worse.

A billion voices cried in pain,
Two billion souls in anguish screamed!
The rich laughed loudly in refrain;
The Earth cried out to be redeemed.

The angel touched my shoulder, kind,
His voice caught once, it seemed.
Then soothing music filled my mind,
And told me that I dreamed.

Mick McKellar
January 2022

Every once in a while, I dream about angels. The lessons they teach are both terrific and terrifying, beyond the power of words to distill, describe, or debate.


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