Books by Book of Dreams, Inc

My Day Through My Window Sill

Post author By Mars D. Gill
Post date March 29, 2020
Sticky post

The birds are swooping, pecking the wet mud
Rain is pattering, flooding my green lawn
The droplets swirl, dancing ripples in the puddles
Caged as a prisoner, I rest my head against the window sill

The birds flap and flutter away, a fun, rainy day
While the thunder batters and rain drums on my roof
I linger here, counting its steady breaths
Longing for breeze to frisk my hair, tickle my cheeks

A roof over my head, warm comfort-rich baths, I have
Hot food on the table, a snug bed to sleep
Cherished moments of rest and playfulness
I now waste in stress

Because that busyness my mind took as normal
Has now abandoned without a goodbye
Why, oh, why, my fragile mind
Don’t you see what you have

Bulbs that light dark hallways
Heaters that warm the night
Idle minutes, imagination’s endless playground
All from the shelter of my home

And when my home walls bore me silly
A green walk leads me to a lake
Then why oh why can’t I wait
Cherish what I have for what it’s worth

And when that rush returns
Round the clock busy traffic takes over the roads
Drowns the chirps of the birds, the noise of thoughts
We’ll cherish that too after knowing it’s worth

Tags covid-19

By Mars D. Gill

From an early age I wanted to make connections with people from across the globe. Allowing emotions to escape the deep recesses of one’s mind, and be spilled into a sheet of paper for the world to read lays an opportunity for reader and writer to combine in a nameless bond, one of oneness, and intrigue. It bares a private part of the writer for all to see. It is daunting and exciting. If a written word can dissipate the worry from another heart, if a written word can bring to a face a smile or a tear, then that connection is complete, and a word shatters the physical distance and brings souls together in harmony and joy. This is my dream, only a dream at the moment.

When I was 15 years old, we got a new English teacher. She spoke so beautifully and clearly and made me want to be a better person. Despite my age-old struggle with language(s), I was fascinated by the world of writing. My teacher inspired me to be a constant memory keeper. I feel at some level she taught me how to think.

Now years later, I am blessed with a career and a family that keeps me busy. However it is that 15-year-old in me that is knocking on my heart and via this little personal web site, urging for outlet for my life-long aspirations of writing and as well as begging for validation of all the dreams, old and new that just do not go away. So, here I am on word press with my own website to see where my dreams take me.