Winter's Lessons

Winter's Lessons

My heavy flannel shirts felt warm,
When I was not so old.
My coat was shelter from the storm,
But now, my hands grow cold.

Then, Winter's drafts did not impair,
My shaggy, woolly pate;
But rich dark hair, no longer there,
Simply can't insulate.

My walks through silent, falling snow,
Seemed each a joyous trek.
Now, when those Winter breezes blow,
The snow goes down my neck!

Old Winter's lessons were complete,
When breaching a snowdrift:
Deep snow filled shoes, and froze my feet,
Gone near too numb to lift.

As I prepare to go out there,
I know what Winter loves:
I can't go out unless I wear,
A hat, scarf, boots, and gloves...

Mick McKellar
February 2014

As a young man, I felt invincible and immune to the cold of Winter's blast. The years have brought, if not wisdom, at least a healthy respect for the icy fingers of the white season.

Mick

Imaginary Gardens

Imaginary Gardens

I searched high and low for a place to go,
Slipping the sovereign reign,
And the tyranny, of my destiny
To endure malaise and pain.

A malicious phage, my dark steroid rage,
Cried havoc, wild, fierce, and fey;
And at first, I thought, if I only fought,
I'd no longer be at bay.

But solace I sought, clearly dearly bought,
By loved ones who paid a price:
When they tried to stay, I chased them away:
Love rejected in a trice.

Simply being rude, I found solitude,
But true peace I could not find;
Till I found the path, past my fear and wrath,
To the gardens in my mind.

Cast adrift, I'd browse midst the forest boughs,
Crystal air scented with loam --
The warm golden air, touched with fragrance rare,
And sweetgrass, emerald ocean foam.

I would glide along, just a mellow song,
A whisper upon the wind.
Fear and grief would cease, and I'd feel at peace,
My offenses I'd rescind.

Can the joy I feel, be completely real?
Are the gardens a real place?
No longer adrift, I know they're a gift,
Granted me by Heaven's grace.
.
I don't fear the day, when I've gone away,
My body as cold as ice;
For I won't be dead, just my spirit fled,
To green gardens -- paradise.

Mick McKellar
January 2014

Where do I go, when my world is snow mixed with meds and malaise and pain? In my mind surreal, green gardens grow real, and I am at peace again.

Mick

Winter Lullaby

Winter Lullaby

Be safe and secure,
Though the night whispers warning.
Our love will ensure,
That you need fear no fright.

     Refrain:
     The angels way up high,
     Watch you all through the night;
     As the cold winter sky,
     Glows with brilliant starlight.

Just close your sweet eyes,
Free from worry till morning;
When the dark starry skies,
Brim with bright golden light.

     Refrain:
     The angels way up high,
     Watch you all through the night;
     As the cold winter sky,
     Glows with brilliant starlight

A soft blanket grows,
Fluffy deep snow, white as cream,
To safeguard your repose,
And your warm winter dream.

Mick McKellar
December 2013


I wish you could hear the music in my mind.

Mick

Quiet Time

Quiet Time

So softly, sadly, Christmas day flowed by,
And passing, whispered a contented sigh.
It left behind a human heart aglow,
With all the memories it could bestow.
Distant loved ones talked of mundane matters:
Daily routines, grand plans left in tatters,
School days, work days, all about the weather,
Games they played, and fun they had together.
I steel myself, to face a silent night,
A quiet time, away from Christmas light,
And snuggled warmly in my bed, it seems,
I'll sleep in peace and love in Christmas Dreams.

Mick McKellar
December 2013


I pray your Christmas was as wonderful as mine.

Mick

Christmas Dreams

Christmas Dreams

The silence of this blessed night,
The touch of snow, so soft and white,
The gentle warmth of love's embrace,
Fills my heart with healing grace.
When echoes of the angel choirs,
Cross centuries hushed  awe inspires,
And soft, sublime, celestial streams,
Caress my humble Christmas dreams;
My soul soars swiftly, taking flight,
Quick borne aloft on golden light.
I mount the sky above all lands,
And brush the stars with outstretched hands.
Tis then I sing, joyous, extol,
The touch of God upon my soul.

Mick McKellar
December 2013

I wish you all a peaceful, joyous, and Merry Christmas.

Mick

Heavenly Guest

Heavenly Guest

A brittle, chill blanket shrouded the night,
Cloaking a soon-to-be mother, adrift
In a vast ocean of brilliant starlight;
Bearing the Almighty's most precious gift.
Long was your journey, to Bethlehem town,
Though heavy with child, you have traveled far;
To a small stable, and weary, lie down,
Under the aegis of the natal star.

Mother, O Mother, how long did you ride,
To find simple lodging, and blessed rest?
Enter your refuge, to shelter inside,
And welcome God's son, our heavenly Guest!

Deep in the cool, blessed darkness of night,
Long before earliest breaking of morn,
A stable awash with celestial light,
Heralds that Jesus, our Savior is born.
Glorious voices dance through the dark skies,
A chorus sublime, echoes joy and mirth.
Shepherds, uplifted by angelic cries,
Know joyful wonder and true peace on earth.

Mother, O Mother, how long you did ride,
To find simple lodging, and shelter blessed,
Where you and the Son of God may abide,
While angels and shepherds praise our sweet Guest.

Mick McKellar
December 2013


Merry Christmas!

Mick

Ages I Have Been

Before the fall...

Ages I Have Been

I feel it all, when I recall
The details, where and when;
The rise and fall, the short and tall,
Of ages I have been.

It's strange, but true, that my world view,
Began down near the floor.
As children do, I upward grew,
And waited to see more.

Until a night of pain and fright,
Brought knowledge, dark and fey;
When painful plight brought raw insight,
And childhood fled away.

Through youngling years, whose loves and fears,
Left me nowhere to hide,
I lived, sans tears, among my peers,
An old man trapped inside.

I strove, meanwhile, an old man's smile,
To hide beneath veneers.
Mile after mile, the long trial,
Filled intervening years.

Now deep within, the verdict's in:
I cannot disavow
Without chagrin, I've always been,
The age that I am now.

Mick McKellar
November 2013

Many years ago, I asked my mother if I was a serious child. "Serious?" she said, "You were positively grim. You were born an old man." She was almost right. It required a terrible accident at age 1 1/2 years to turn a teeny toddler into a tiny gaffer. Suddenly upgraded from naiveté to reality, I became the grim nipper. Guess I haven't changed, much...

Mick

The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been.
-Madeleine L'Engle, writer (1918-2007)