20 Lines A Day

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A Stormy Night With You

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As I listen to the rain spattering against my cabin’s window,
I think of that night when we were stranded here.
The roads were washed out and the creek overflowing,
but I was in your arms , safe, warm, a long-awaited dream.

I saw the lights blink on the alarm clock, the bang on the transmitter.
I smiled, we were alone, you and I , no one would check on us.
I tugged on grandma’s quilt and you tugged back-asleep.
I listened to the sweet sound of your breath, soft, even.

When I awoke, stars glimmered in the window, the clock was flashing.
Darkness still surrounded me, along with your strong, hard arms.
I wanted this night to last forever, the moon seemed satisfied with just a peek at us.
You and I, finally in a place where life brought a freshness-alone, together.


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Regeneration

2014-03-21 13.59.20-1

Though spring has not yet blessed the trees with blossom, passing through
the woods this day, the sullen bareness of the dead tree among the living
draws my eye, its branches, like a skeleton, support the life nearby,
a chorus of creatures sing their dirges, oblivious that I have
trespassed in their woods, while the tree stands at attention and the world
goes on around, and through, exchanges its own life for hollow emptiness

No shame in being dead, for once you were alive,
and now you still bring grace and beauty,
no need for those around you to forget, to bury you or
avert their eyes from your emptiness

No, the world goes on, life goes on, better than perhaps before,
trickling rain, singing wind, crackling of your deathly limbs,
ruddy run-off water meandering across the path,
these create the harmonies that push life forward

©SpiritLed 2014


time to go to sea

Sandside I slump, on shelled shore, sun screened and sipping soda, unaware of rising tide.
The waves lap my feet, childish, childlike.
I settle into my shallow rock pool.
It’s pretty. Controlled. Tepid. You could say lukewarm.
Occasionally, mercifully, the tide refreshes it
And that unforgetting love spills in, flooding my dry sand living.

I have been playing adult-like, fun-less,
Responsibly boring the world,
Offering religion, not new life living,
Forgetting I was made to be as simple as the waves.
Missing, simply, the fathomless sea.

Words ring in my ears, in my mouth: “Try harder,” “Read, pray, do…MORE.”
Words so unrefreshing, untouched by tidal tonic,
Stale on tired, heat-stroked ears.
But your one word stroke broke yoke-rules, found parched hearts,
Mine among them.

We study the sea,
Read books, endure lectures, schedule workshops,
Then, with dry feet, speak of how nice it would be
To swim.

The tide is turning, the sea calls me in.
There are some strokes to acquire—
Backstroking forwards,
Freestyle living,
Even butterfly,
Flying.
But surely the splash and splatter of learning is better than stagnant pools or stifling sand,
Sheltered from revitalizing thrill.

Time brings tide’s pull, I splash in, all I feel is new.
I dive, delve into your effervescence, afloat in you.
Stillness and movement mingle, a sweetness of life.
A soul-craved life.
That which clothed me, masked me, left onshore—
Religious duplicity, scanty love living, safety settling.
The tide is turning now. Will you take me to the deep?
The swirls along the rocks tell me that it is
Time to go to sea.

Poem by Jonathan McCallum
@peoplepoesia
Poetry Blog


Sea King

Massive wave hills were breaking further out than I had ever seen.
I told myself and my friend that I would stay close-by shore,
And go no further, no more.

Slipping into the icy froth of the rip express lane,
Passing familiar rocky point,
I sat on my board, just gliding seaward like floating royalty in a river coronation,
Absorbing solar praise,
Robed regally in wet fur seal like suit,
Laughingly shouting back to my friend enjoying the shore-break surfing:
“Check this out!”
Forgetting to embrace shoreline wisdom.

My mistake apparent within seconds,
I am no king of the sea.
Today the familiar merry go round rip
joyfully ridden back to wave riding position
Bulged uncharacteristically and pulled me near to panic,
An unstoppable river, impossible to defy.
I was riding a water chairlift out to liquid white mountains.

In a salty blink, I whispered, “Save me!”
Doubt gushed, poured and exited out.
I saw daughter, wife, scenes of life.
I heard a royal blue voice call out: “Keep going, yes further out.”
Each shivering stroke showed feeble faith
As the sets rising green and tall drew terrifyingly near.

A precious wave approached from an unexpected angle,
Birthing hope within—to catch it would be certain escape.
It lifted me up, throwing me down, carrying me in.
I rode that surfboard like a rapid-rafting baboon,
Arriving to the shore,
Whispering appreciation to the real Sea King.

By Jonathan


Back on the roof I went

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

It snowed and snowed and snowed some more. It was a day of pushing snow around the landscape, that had looked so warm the day before. The sun was supposed to show up yesterday and warm up all that wet snow and I knew what that meant. Yes back up onto the roof I would go. He put the heavy ladder up against the lowest roof line and held the ladder while I went up with cameras wrapped up in plastic bags and placed into a canvas bag, I also brought up the electrical wire draped over my good shoulder and prayed I made it to the top of the ladder with no slip ups. Once upon the roof I found out rather quickly how slippery it was and fell hard on my bad knee. Is that not the way when you have an injury?  Now I had to get…

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Her

Her balloon went flying in the air

and the young adorable little girl

went running after it.

She stopped in her tracks

and another little girl handed her the balloon

it was like looking in a mirror

In that split second

her hand was grabbed and she was whisked away to the car

without ever seeing the girl again.

her


Window

Staring out the window

locked in a time that you can’t get out of.

A heart that breaks everyday

to know that someone you loved

more than anything in the world

pushed you out of their lives

like you never meant anything to them

like you were a piece of trash

Staring out the window

the breeze feels

so soft on your skin

that you can feel the tear sliding down your face.

Everybody left her at the same time

Everybody said what they wanted

no knowing that words hurt,

you gave her more scars

then he did

Each one of you gave her a story

far better than she could ever imagine.

If you think it’s about you

then my job is done.

Staring out the window

is where she is left.

redwindow


Winter Has Gone And Reared Her Ugly Head OK Maybe Pretty For some

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

Yes pretty for those of you not having to SHOVELI IT!  So pretty just to sit and chill looking at folks like me stuck in New England when their hearts are missing the south!

Remember this view?

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This one too

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Welcome to my world today! Just 24 hours later.  The saying here goes “Don’t like the weather, wait a minute!”

Now once again a winter wonderland

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Shoveling for the dog and the birds once again. 
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Heavy wet stuff had the boughs weighed down badly
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It came down to beat the band!
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This was were the ducks swam yesterday in the pretty sunshine.
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Look what he got to move for it’s maiden voyage  :)

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Messing around while I had my feet up waiting to go out for round 3

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Yes they came to the feeders to fill up

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The Apple Tree had all kinds of birds on it as the truck…

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