Conversation with Morgan Leigh Callison

Season One Episode Three

Today’s episode is a conversation with poet, artist, and temple dweller Morgan Leigh Callison. I met Morgan many years ago at a yin yoga and reconciliation series. Reconciliation in this instance refers to reparations by the colonizers and justice for the Indigenous people of Turtle Island. Yes, yoga is political. And poetry is political too and it’s also a doorway into reconciliation as we will hear in this conversation.

Morgan’s Bio in her own words:

currently living, loving, creating, healing & evolving on the traditional lands of the mi’kmaq people, in a hand built tiny temple off grid cabin next to a flowing stream amongst some of her favourite beings, the trees. 

as a soul alchemist, soul poet & multi medium artist, morgan spends her time (the most precious commodity she has) regaining a sense of fluidity and trust with the natural rhythms of the world. 

highly influenced by the moon, the ocean & the unseen aspects of this human experience, she lives a life attuned to her senses and in the deepest alignment with her values as she is currently capable of. 

driven by a desire to experience life as a whole & healthily integrated human being, she uses her innate skills of critical thinking & the questioning of everything to move forward in choosing actions steeped in the intention of justice and harmony for all human, earthly & universal existence. 


Conversation with Morgan Leigh Callison Crafted Connections

Show Notes

The writer’s workshop I referenced in regards to writing on a computer compared to writing with pen on paper was by Danielle of The Story Midwife:

Morgan’s website:
Morgan’s Instagram is @morganleighcallison
Purchase Morgan’s ebook poetry collections at her website

And here’s Morgan’s wonderful poem that I read on today’s episode:

the earth’s fire
burns inside of me
as the bones
of evil ancestors
turn to ashes –
smouldering only for one second
as the fury of their inner rage
is transformed
into life giving energy
to be expelled
into the ethers
of all existence.

the earth’s fire
burns on the surface
as trees turn black
with charred stumps
left to remind us
of the power
that lives
inside our own hearts
just as wildly as it lives
inside the belly
of the one’s who
know the best way
to consume
that which needs
to be consumed
for truth to prevail.

hell hath no mercy
like the mercy
we see as lives
become swept
into the unity
of all creation.
glory be
the one’s
who know how to dance
even when there is no music
left for our ears to hear.
the violin has played it’s last string brigade
of tear sodden notes
and we shall all return
to stone
as slowly
as the earth turns
it’s final turns
in the spiral
of all relations.

soul poem : prompted by @rebecca.a.cavender (so grateful for these intuitive prompts!) : {no mercy – glory be} : november 2020