20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Depth of Nature

The sea like silken water with its triangular-peaked hills rising in front of me, neither relaxed or in a hurry, flows at a speed I wanted to experience.  I paddled frantically, and suddenly, in a breath, the sensation changed from a pulling through the water to a force pushing onto the azul cliff crest. Then there was the perfect rush down, the fall, a thunder of water behind, a liquid slicing turn along  green-blue scenery, a coal-less steam-powered train ride, the only energy nature’s.

In that breath, that ride, I remember that I too am part of this flowing life, and I shout out, thankful, singing, a prayer from within.  Air rushes past, nothing else can matter, my body and mind are consumed by a few seconds.  A delicious sensation, even the salty taste and scent as I inhale, smiling.

Seaside, I walk up the beach in adoration of nature.  My soul feels like my body felt, like a rock being momentarily launched, skimmed over something deep and alive.  And at the end of the ride, at the end of the moment, I sink into that which I love so much.

By Jonathan McCallum


God-Filled Cracks

Pristine ocean waves
call you to places you’ve never
dared to go, places inside
your mind where the light

burns bright and exposes
all your sullen and dingy
thoughts on god and why
he doesn’t show up in your life

more often, compels you to examine
under the force of the pounding waves
your acts of defiance
in the name of self-preservation

but which self is still unclear,
despite the microscope and
operating table where you can
carefully dissect and then put

the pieces back together
stitch by stitch, like a Frankenstein
doll with a porcelain heart,
stuck together with tacky glue

that is only guaranteed for a few years
and after that who knows what happens
to those shattered pieces?
Do they break apart and float,

getting lodged in the crevices?
Or do they simply disintegrate
as if they never existed?
You think the glue will hold

because you always were naïve
and the patched up parts
are your religion, the glue-filled
cracks where you find your god

SpiritLed 2014


More

The final day of vacation holds a sadness
a knowing that the hermit life created for a time must end
that all the sandy remnants washed upon the shore
which once housed life
now provide enjoyment for collectors

as their broken parts begin to renourish the shoreline
as your broken parts started to renourish while on temporary retreat

Yet the wholeness is still fleeting
as soon as the water washes upon the shore
it just as quickly recedes
and even an extended solitary stay
cannot stop the feeling
of slipping away

And so the melancholy pervades
even as the others play and walk the beach
in quiet confidence of more time

More time –
     It’s what you always want
     no matter the endeavor

More time to hug your children
More time to finish your work
More time to stay still

More –
     Nothing is ever enough

Why can’t the blessed moments in life be enough
     without wanting more?

Each moment is encapsulated in the now, past and
     future are no longer or not yet real

More implies lack, and looking out at this expanse
     you know you want for nothing
     except for More

Each shell you collected is real today but gone tomorrow
     and you still want More

Each day a gift, never to be received again
     and yet you sit, melancholy on the sand
     counting the hours until you must part
     rather than counting the waves, the shells,
     the single grains of sand that could fill up
     an entire lifetime of More

Waves, shells, sand
     they know everything comes to an end
     transition is the only way to sustain life
     they share their wisdom
     for those who are open to hear
     those who dare to turn their backs on More

SpiritLed 2014


2 Comments

Where Green Meets Blue

2014-07-13 10.14.43

There is no such thing as too much time by the sea
for she’s my closest friend
sometimes enrapturing me with laughter
sometimes pounding discontent
sometimes kissing my feet with salty tears

Long spaces of time may transpire between visits
but we start again right where we left off
marvel at the changes in each other
laugh together at the shorebirds
gobbling tiny morsels of gossip

We sit together, my sea-friend and I
pick up pink-striped shells, broken slivers of sand dollars
and throw them back into the welcoming waves

She cannot resist one more caress on the shore
and I, one more glance across the horizon
where green meets blue in perfect union

It may be true that I could share this love
with any other shore
nourish the same quiet friendship
but there is a secret here in the crystal sands
there is a solitude that spreads like religion
no matter how many people circle ‘round
there is healing like a baptism
in every splash upon the shore

SpiritLed 2014


Tidal Wave

Woman in water

There is the path that cleanses all
inequity, yet I just sit here
staring into space, epitomizing this
headache that started even before
I was fully awake, setting sail to
pity parties in my bathtub ocean,
confined by solid walls, no tide
to refresh impurities, a fish tank
in the background the only
indication of moving water,
stirring spirit

©SpiritLed 2014


The Ocean Within

Ebbing and flowing,
cleansing and nourishing,
from the tiniest fish that swim
in your veins, to the largest whales
of your soul, rely on the life-giving
water from within, nourished by the sun through day,
directed by the tides at night, touched by
the hand of God and bestowed the power
to create and sustain life, to raise up
great storms and inspire the heart of man,
to love with great fury and tear down walls
built long ago by another people’s war

The water that makes you
is ordained with holy wings,
harness the power of the great ocean inside,
use it not for devastation of the unruly and
sinful parts, but as a sacred trough from which
all may drink and find the blessings of life

©SpiritLed 2014

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