Soul Anchor

Time ebbs as a cosmic tide, my soul reaches for an anchor.
Is there a sanctuary somewhere? For all of us?
A place like the childhood neighbourly hoods,
Where we roamed on sunlit lawns, dancing to the sway of sprinklers and sun showers,
Carefree, drinking days of liquid life.

Too soon the rainless clouds of adulthood rolled in.
The bills dried us, wars broke us, funerals reminded us,
And we saw the children despairing the world they inherited.
They hum unable to sing, shake unable to dance,
Violence and corruption absorbed through kicks and screens.

Some found you in the stars,
You found me in dreams,
Others in fields, shipwrecks or summits under dark skies dusted with seemingly cold galaxies.
So many orbits ventured, conflict and pain, and hope regained.

There is a pathway
And on this journey I find rest
In the forest, by the sea, on the land you give the gentle.
In the mountains I mourn, by the river I rage, all with you by my side.
As jagged peaks breathe ice and snow, you thaw the mirage of endless winter
A warmth of words spoken softly to the child within.
You sweeten time with togetherness, presence around the table.
Time ebbs a cosmic tide, my soul reaches an anchor.

– Jonathan McCallum

24th December 2017

storm laughter

storm waves, 7 bodyboarders and i, catching reforming monsters from the 9 foot waves breaking along rocks. moments of wind-foam falling like snow, cheering as we urge one another on to fuller & sandier heights or tumbling bubbling lows.  spray of salty white spirit-like clouds causing momentary blindness, the closest i’ve been… the first time i’ve bobbed, laughed and hooted in a storm!

-jonathan @peoplepoesia

unseen ocean embrace

Peace drips from sunlit cloud tops, spilling silvery shine across blue green ocean canvas. Bottle floats glittering, message within, unseen by passing tankers carrying their muck to fill cars, lives with places to be on time.  Skipping down green steep hills to portside school, a glimmer bobbing, clinking on stone.  Reaching in, arm wet, she finds the note: “By this port you found me, beside you I’ll always be.”  Sea catches fresh clean tears, cool breeze whispers, and warmth of a friend embraces unseen.


home of the basques

wide green mountain-scape, wet rocky earth, grey sticky clouds, blue sky bursts, cod fishermen-explorers, raging winter swells, summer sun delight, jagged sea hamlets, narrow winding cobblestone lanes, welcoming the curious traveller into pintxo-filled restaurants flowing txoria txori free melodic music. euskal herria… home of the basques.