Michael's Chronicles: I Ask Myself

A man who spends most of his life on the road has a lot to dream about, and my brother Michael dreams more than most.

I Ask Myself

 

I ask myself

Of what shall I dream tonight

Something fine, I hope

Something wondrous

Something impossible

 

Were I the Master

In charge of it all

A wand would I wave

Or perhaps a magical stick

 

Warming the place

Where people stand cold

Inspiring the bigot

To rethink his thoughts

 

Vanquishing darkness

In favor of light

Granting pain and despair

Their permanent adieu

 

But alas

I’m no one so powerful

Only one who dreams

Of better angels

 

Of what might I dream tonight?

Something wondrous or impossible?

Something fine, I hope…..

Something splendid and good

 

Of

What

Shall I

Dream tonight?

Michael's Chronicles: Imagination

I have to admit -- like Michael, I'm not looking for life's answers. I'm just hoping to live it well.

Imagination

 

The beauty of imagination

Is in its utter indifference

To sanity, rationality

And all that implies

 

There is ample time in one’s day

To balance action with reason

To stay in one’s comfort zone

To be thought of as practical

 

There is no argument

That this is a life well lived

And to many I’ve known

A life well experienced - well managed

 

But what of dreams?

Be they at night or by day

What of the side trips one takes

On the way to somewhere else?

 

When we are old

And balancing life’s books

Will we celebrate achievements

Or things never tried

Paths never taken

 

For my part, the mind wanders

I celebrate the unexpected

That which gives me pause

Makes me ask questions

 

My quest is not to find life’s answers

But rather to leave no interesting stones unturned

No greyhound who ever caught the rabbit

Ever chased it again

 

So keep me in the hunt

Let my mind wander on impulse

I will do my best to stay on point

But be not surprised when I can’t

 

I will feed life’s chickens

And milk its cows every day

But if the sun should set

And I have not dreamed

On that day, frankly

My life will have been an udder failure

Michael's Chronicles: Parrish

It's been a while since we've heard from my brother, who, as always, is chewing up the highways working the shows that sell the wooden instruments. Work is always on his mind, but it's never the only things that's on his mind.

Parrish

 

Oh thank you Maxfield

You have sent your sky

To comfort the end

Of my too long day

I am grateful my friend

 

Your mind and your hand

The gifts that live on

Indelible images

Transcendent of time

I am thankful my friend

 

Cast across the west horizon

Those pastel blues and sherbet oranges

Easing me into the winter’s eve

Washing my mind’s chatter away

I am quieting my friend

 

My mother knew you well

She was the one

To point out your truth to me

Breathing, not so much speaking it

“Look, son. It’s a Maxfield Parrish sky.”

 

So when I see you coming

I always think of Margaret

She left so many gifts behind

And you…..you are among the best

I am humbled my friend