​Your song, I can hear,
as if the tune was written for me,
like a stream flowing over small stones polished to perfection,
​the wind blowing
quietly in the trees,

the sun in the sky,
peeking, daring me to fly,
your song I can hear, but sometimes I don't know why,

It finds in me words, words I did not know,
as you pour me from you, as if you too know
the reality of a dream like many
following an unknown path,
but still, but still I can hear your song,

In the quiet of the night
I hear you, silence does not silence you,
when I turn myself over to sleep, it is as if you
are there to reasssure me, it is okay,
it won't go wrong, I am here for you,
sing, sing with me, please sing along,
sing your song,

I hear every tune, every note, every word
in a dream melody like a lark over a morning lake
sounding morning's arrival, I hear it, I hear it so
clearly that my heart cannot help but pound,

I finally hear you in the middle of any storm,
I hear you like I found you somewhere on this journey,
a search for stories, the lark flew
and the words came to me,
and the song within us all,
and that is where the dream sings,
and that is where our story begins,
this is where your dream lives,
dream your song,
it is yours to begin,
​yours to sing.
BY Melinda Cochrane copyright

It keeps findin' me
down the small streets
and around the bends,
over highways
and above ground, through
halls, down stairways and
over hills, down paths
in trees covered with snow.
It keeps findin' me
in the dreams, in the songs,
in the days and in the nigihts,
in the mornings and in the sunsets.

It keeps findin me as if it was always
there, always chasin' me, even when
I tell it to go away, give me some rest,
come back another day, when I have more energy.

It keeps finding me no matter what I do, what I say,
what I feel, what I fight, what I push away, what I
forget to do, what I do, what I do throughout the day.

It keeps findin' me and never goes away,
the inward callin', to keep this dream goin'
to keep it movin', to keep it, to hold on to it,
to hold it tight, to keep this dream goin',
to keep the story, to write.
By Melinda Cochrane copyright

Today
the blue bird came out of its cage
to sing a melody of love
and the song made the room
remember its silence
as the dried flowers of
time began to age
more quickly 
before the clock
hanging over pictures
framed in hopes
and lost in boxes

But still the blue bird
perched itself on
the hand of the woman
about to enter the next
chapters of her life
and it sang a chorus
of dreams through her heart

As the sun began to rise
in a life with stories
and the bird 
whispered quietly to the
lines in the woman’s face
“you are still alive,
and we should sing together”
then both sang a song
which lifted the sleep out
of life and the dance of
wings about to fly met the air
By Melinda Cochrane © 
also published at lifeasahumanmagzine

There are
secrets poets keep
deep within their hearts
like the first time
it was broken
then the last time it was taken
and we keep the secrets of quiet days
when God speaks such gentleness in us
that we cry, cry from the depth of meaning

meaning so many miss
and we share them
in words
eloquent
sometimes simple sentiments
sometimes with a hyphen
to join one thought to the next
secrets that are hard for us to share
they aren’t the secrets of who we forgot
who we never loved, who we loved 
and sometimes who we never knew
they are the secrets of the universe
tucked somewhere between our pen
and our desire to be heard
it is as if,
as if
God is asking us
“What are you going to do,
sit there and say nothing?
Sit there in your writer’s solitude
while the world falls apart?
Do something…”
So we do
and for most of us,
if not all of us
it is the most painful
of experiences,
we go from those quiet days
into louder ones
filled with know-it-all critics
and agents
and then rejections of poems- some times acceptance
like a crown was granted on top of a poet, 
waiting to be seen, waiting to be heard,
but we kill something we had in that quiet
but we want to break it
break it and for that
we are willing to have the world
gaze upon our words as if they knew us intimately
and they want to
and they need to
how else will they explain their very
existence
By Melinda Cochrane copyright
also published at lifeasahumanmagazine

It isn't complex,
there is no real test,
nothing for you to index,

It takes good old fashioned compassion,
not a lot of thinking about it to do,
nothing for you to ration 

There is enough for everyone,
we don't need all this hate,
it can be overrun,  

Just see everyone as us, 
the we, we need to be, 
there is nothing to discuss 

Just act like a human,
love, just love and love some more,
 then we will have unity union. 

By Melinda Cochrane copyright

Not the way,
anyone wants to go,
reading newspapers-
morgues filled with COVID-19 
and it is leaving us blue,
holding onto memories of summertime,
listening to the song too,
left us thinking this is not the way to go,
an invisible enemy creeping down 
side streets and through family doors,
as if it lived on its own, wanting to 
invade us and take control,
that is not the way to go,
fear overcoming some
leaves others watching windows
wondering- will this go away, 
just go away so that we can go back
to dancing in the moonlight with 
the people we love, can we just live our way?
and the reality hits that maybe 
this moment in our lives, 
will make us value the true lovers,
the true livers of life, the ones who 
even in the pandemic triumph in their dreams,
who fight to hang on to them and to make them come true,
- that's the way to go,
blazing a trail through the dreams we thought
we could not make so
instead of fear we fought
not to let go- now, that's, that's the way to go.
By Melinda Cochrane