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.

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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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