Meditation

Meditation

I woke, cast adrift on a sea of pain,

So far from home, I could not see the shore.

I dreamt of drifting light and free again,

Embracing pain and suffering no more.

I glimpsed the distant borders of that dream,

A rare occasion, when my mind would rest;

Though not as close as wishing made it seem,

And far to swim, though I might try my best.

I prayed for onshore winds to swiftly blow,

Caress fevered brow, and lift me gently,

To carry me to shore -- where I must go

If I am to escape my agony --

And leave the sea of pain behind, and more:

To sleep, upon that painless, peaceful shore.

Mick McKellar

May 2014

Neuropathy pain woke me at 3:00 AM and writing this meditation/visualization helped me drift away.

Mick

Dream Life

 

 

 

 

 

Dream Life

I dreamed a dream that made me cry,
Although it was about me living,
Because the price of life was high —
A cost that there was no forgiving.

I never woke up with a smile,
Instead my eyes were red from crying.
I told my fam'ly all the while,
I was OK, but I was lying.

For in my dream I was not nice,
My life was something I was buying.
For ev'ry day there was a price:
Each day I lived someone was dying.

Before my eyes would open wide,
I saw the victim I was robbing;
I felt the terror rise inside,
And heard each martyr softly sobbing.

I felt when each heart beat its last;
I knew the moment each was sinking.
It never happened very fast,
I knew the fear each one was thinking.

I saw the horror in their eyes,
And felt the pain as life was taken.
Then I would wake to take my prize,
And start the day completely shaken.

At first I did not understand,
Why I was given to such dreaming,
And why my life would death demand,
With no forgiveness, no redeeming.

I felt the terror late each night,
As I grew listless and so tired;
I could not once evade my plight,
The deal my suffering inspired.

So it continued day-to-day,
I earned the wages of my scheming.
My guilt would never go away,
My spirit ached from silent screaming.

Until at last I yearned for death,
I cried and hoped someone was list'ning;
Til I could barely catch my breath,
My face was wet, my eyes were glist'ning.

I offered up my life to pay,
The price for all the lives I'd stolen.
My voice was terrible and fey,
My eyes were desolate and swollen.

As I was screaming in the dark,
A sudden, golden light was glowing,
Upon my visage bleak and stark —
Its touch was peace and love bestowing.

A sound of beauty touched my heart.
A touch of wonder filled my being:
My veil of darkness torn apart,
By all the splendor I was seeing.

And then I felt my soul take flight,
Away from fear that left me reeling.
I flew directly toward the light,
And loved the love that I was feeling.

I woke up safely in my bed,
And thanked the Lord I was not dead.

Mick McKellar
March 2014

Sometimes, my dreams can be more frightening than my strongest fear, and yet so inspirational they leave me with a sense of wonder.

Mick

Stumbled

 

 

 

 

 

Stumbled

While walking with my nose up in the air,
I stubbed my toe against a rock so small,
By right it shouldn't even have been there —
I never should have stubbed my toe at all!
So, I decided that I had been harmed,
And therefore it was only right to sue.
I went to see a lawyer, fully armed
With that small rock, to see what he could do.
He placed the mini-boulder in a box.
He snapped some images of my left shoe.
I showed him where I stumbled in the rocks...
He smiled and said, "Sorry, I can't help you."
"Your driveway?" He asked, grinning like an elf.
"Unless," he said, "You want to sue yourself."

Mick McKellar
February 2014

We have more than 1.2 million lawyers in the U.S. How can we support so many lawyers? I wonder...

Mick

Different Eyes

 

 

 

 

 

Different Eyes

I now see the world with different eyes.
The eyes of old age, not the eyes of youth.
Although each window still smiles and still cries,
They now have the leisure to search for truth.
Not truth as in knowledge only God knows;
Not truth as in secrets only I see,
But the simple truth that reflection shows:
Maybe not to you, maybe just for me.
I see the beauty in every face.
I can hear a choir in every voice.
I see and hear life all over the place;
I sense possibilities in each choice.
Each hour, each minute is precious to me,
To sing the great anthem of what I see.

Mick McKellar
February 2014

I realized this morning, that I don't see the world as I did only a few short years ago. Maybe I've changed because I have come so close to leaving it, or maybe I am just getting older and I sense my time is growing shorter.

Mick

Beyond Reasons

 

 

 

Beyond Reasons

I can't give you a reason you should love me;
I can't give you a reason why I care.
I cannot say I see the future clearly,
But I promise you — I'll always be there.

I feel the warmth of love so deep inside you,
It's at your core and exceedingly rare.
I cannot prove that what I'm feeling is true,
But I promise you — I'll always be there.

You see my love and wonder at my reasons.
It seems impossible that I would dare
Commit to loving you through all our seasons,
But I promise you — I'll always be there.

I'll never need a reason just to love you;
I love enough for both, so we can share.
After I die, my love will surely come through,
And you'll still know that I'll always be there.

Mick McKellar
February 2014

Love lives beyond life, and endures beyond time. Love's promise lasts beyond reason and resists all efforts at empirical study. Love requires no proof and exists in the face of impossible odds. One may love enough to carry two or may flicker, a bright spot in the twilight of the heart. Love never dies, though we may choose to ignore it, bury it, or run away from it. Love is proof to me that God lives.

Mick

More Light Than Heat

 

 

 

 

 

More Light Than Heat

Oh, to be a candle, scourge of the night,
Giving of oneself to battle the gloom;
So tall and tapered, sharing warmth and light,
Banishing the dark from every room.
Though tapers, lit, more radiance purvey,
The flames consuming all they have to share,
More sacrifice is not the only way,
To multiply a solitary flare.
For brilliance travels back and forth en mass,
Nearly undiminished goes forth its beam,
As light breaks forth from gleaming silvered glass,
To banish shadows in a twinkling dream.
Tis enough to reflect the light it sends,
Rather than burn a candle at both ends.

Mick McKellar
February 2014


Why do some poets generate more heat than light? Why do they flare brightly and are quickly gone? Perhaps, they simply need to polish their powers of observation, and reflect on that which illuminates their lives.

Mick

Unseen Prison

 

 

 

 

 

Unseen Prison

Cold wraith-like walls my daily life surround,
More veil than barrier, this dark stockade
Looms a rampart, a personal compound,
Which of human imperfection is made.
Withdrawn within, to the shadows I cleave,
A prisoner behind bulwark unseen.
I long to be free, but I cannot leave,
Cut off from my life—an abyss between.
My heart, long bound by chains I cannot see,
Drums a slow song, unheard but by my ears.
Its thirsty cadence, yearning to be free
Of unseen chains, rusted by salty tears.
Yet my mind roams free, unshackled, unbound,
To touch other minds, with a joy profound.

Mick McKellar
February 2014

We all have our prisons, I suppose—some are even of our making. Serious illness can create an invisible prison, reinforced both by the fears of friends, family, and acquaintances, and our own fears, often amplified by loneliness and pain. However, there is joy in the freedom of the mind and the spirit, which recognize neither barricade nor boundary.

Mick