Compass Bearings

Within whispering waves and salt water sprays,

In pale blue skies and cotton clouds,

Among limestone plateaus and sandstone bluffs,

This eternal sound does my ear hear:

‘Home is the north, wherever you shall roam’,

Percolating through my soul one drop at a time,

This land, this place, this rhyme of mine,

Here am I then, lying in the grass,

Amidst the soil and the spoil,

Between the rocks and the rivers,

My cupped hands, holding memories complete.


When looked at from different angles life itself can reveal more depth than we dare to dream. Photograph shot by author (CC) with Pentax S1a.


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