Peter W. Chaltas







The Travellers


Each one of us

is a traveller

and often a wastrel,

with a soul like

a feather in the wind.

Winds toss it

mercilessly hard, and cold,

in furious storms without meaning,

into thankless death.

Lead our souls like a feather in the wind,

as a naïve lamb,

led by a loving hand.

It is such a long way to go,

over the waters.

Thalassa, Thalassa,

the wind blows,

and we travel far

from the gentle start

in the morning.

We all have a choice to make

as we go.

“You have come down

now visible,

Infinite and Eternal One,

to conceal yourself,

as the manifest force of nature,

and to allow evil to have free reign,

and to exist in this world,

only to raise us high

and to test us to reveal,

through your blowing

and changing winds,

the traits of leadership

that you have given us,

and placed quietly within.

In your eternal will,

you wait patiently

to spring out

and fulfill.  »  **                                      **Kabbalistic Prayer






Sister, brother,

Be my friend.

We’re not strangers,

But gaze at each


Mirrored, and

Different ends,

Of the same One.




One and the Same


We start poetry,

Prose, and life with “I”,

When we can start

Inclusively with “we”,

And some start Only with “she”

Some profess vehemently,


We are alone,


We are free,

But the story is not yet


Not yet done.

In time

We return

And we see,

We are connected as the One.




Return with Joy


There is a time to turn Inward

To tend to the self and one’s own,

To pray and meditate,

In one’s own temple,

To the Creator.


There is a time to turn outward,

in all directions and spread food,

Physical and spiritual,

Goodwill and peace.

When we act outwardly,

What we act on or towards

Will bear fruit.


When we act in goodwill and peace,

We allow ourselves to turn inward

Once again with joy.

When we do so,

We do what the creator has done.

As at the separating of the waters,

At the time of creation, was and is.


Cast your bread upon the waters.

Inward and outward in all directions,

is the way.


We can return inward,

To prayer and meditation daily,

And outward to commune with each other,

To spread wholesome, fruitful seeds

Of good acts daily,

rather than reactive anger,

Hatred, selfishness, and greed,

That yield only a single, sterile,

Bitter crop.


Inward and outward,

In all directions,

In goodwill and peace

is the way of all creation,

and the creator’s mechanism

In the workings of all.


It is the way of the breath we take

That sustains our bodies,

The way of the workings of our heart,

The routine of our daily life,

The act of speaking, and of writing a book,

Of physical conception, and birth,

The workings of the cosmos, and nature,

Or of the ever sustaining

Blossoming, breath and mercy,

Of the Creator Oneself.

Oneself’s being is Love,

And we can return to it with Joy.






I was tired.

You gave me rest .

I was desolate,


consumed by void,

Until I heard,

A silent sacred voice,


So very  clearly,

A sparkling flow.

Peace relieve me.

Grief let me go,


To learn

To live with less.

Give me more

Of that stark and simple sight,

And that courage,


Openly confess,

That all is One.




Smoke and Ashes in Corsica


Trails of overwhelming beauty;

Winding trails from Ajaccio to Bastia

of trees and stones,

with rushing steams.

Outstretched skies,

and nestled towns,

of scattered  homes

are suspended on hillsides.

The raw beauty of nature

unfolds itself in a green, gold,

layered  tapestry.

Dusk falls as the sun fades,

and the golden light of illuminated windows

decorates the hills with familial warmth.

The train continues to snake its way

through the countryside..

In the evening we stand alone,

under starry skies by sandy

and parchment seaweed

tangled shores.

The waves and the cool breeze

meet the silence so gently,

they seem mundane.

Moonlight illuminates the moment

purely and faithfully,

in shades of blue and grey,

while the stars swirl in an arch

above us, across  the sky.

At midnight in musty quarters by the sea,

I prepare myself immersed in prayer, thanks,

and imperfect repetition,

as the purifying water flows. .

In bed, leafing through

the thick hand cut pages of Daniel’s book

I see the corner of the page,

a single page,

start to split and peel back from itself into two.


A message is unfolding.


Then a burst,

and a small cloud of smoke

is in the room,

in the air above our heads

as if something has just  broken,

or exploded in mid air.

The tiny black ashes gently fall

downwards toward us,

and then disappear before they touch us.

The page corner

seals itself into one, once more,

and It is done.

We are astounded and wonder,

what  it is we have

just seen.

I think to myself:

The vessel has cracked and burst.




The Immigrant Travels Many Journeys    


She was raised by grandparents.

Then Fate made her an orphan.

She grew to become

a hard working, self sufficient,

quiet and independent woman;

Loving, patient, generous,

She tended her sheep lovingly,

cultivated her gardens meticulously…

A kind, caring, and gentle spirit.


Love found her.

He was struck by the quiet girl

with the beautiful and soulful eyes

who worked  diligently,

and kept her distance.


They had been born together

and desired to die together .

He had a dream to travel,

and build a new life.


She, with uncommon courage

and faith,

took a long trip

across the ocean

to follow him …

and so the orphan

became an immigrant .


Arriving at the train station alone,


and not knowing  where to go,

she simply sat on her suitcase

waiting for her *soon to be*,

to arrive.


He found her fortunately at the station

and warmly greeted her

with a kiss .

They were married.

Modestly and earnestly

they began building a new life together.


She worked as a seamstress

among  other things.

At night she would buy a fruit

or some little food from the market

and patiently wait  for him to arrive

to share a  simple meal together.


She gave birth to her first son

and afterwards to her second.


They sometimes argued

but love bound them together

securely, tightly, invisibly.


They laboured diligently;

long hours

in the early years

and established  solid roots,

maintaining the spirit of kindness,

empathy, and generosity

towards others,

that nurtured them as well.


They embarked

on their primary labour

of caring, supporting

and helping others,

to arrive in a new life.


One by one, the others arrived,

and their love became an open house,

and a refuge to  those making

that same journey for a better life.

What great joy she experienced,

in helping and taking care of others .

She took care of the elderly,

the young,

and of strangers,

and adults.

She loved them with all her heart,

as did they.

Carefully and meticulously

she labored to meet  their daily needs .

She truly was a unique,

compassionate soul,

that  placed priority on the other’s needs,

and the needs of those

that she met for the very  first time .


He died one night suddenly, next to her in his sleep.

It was a crushing blow to her, and her own.

Although she carried on,

Sadness took hold of her

once again.

She toiled diligently, again for years.


Then one year in autumn, she made an end,

and traveled back across the ocean

on a  journey of many months,

to see palaces and castles ,

her vineyards, mountains and her seas.

It brought her joy,

and wondrous memory,

that stayed with her to end .


The years passed, her health faltered

but she always remained strong,

in a quiet humble faith,

no matter what the challenge.

She lived to see her sons married

and gained her daughters in love.

One day Sickness heard of her story

and traveled far to meet her.

She never refused a guest,

and so he came to stay .

His trip was the final

great  labour and challenge

that she undertook.


Her love for her children, and their love for her

was an unwavering constant throughout her life.

Through her many years of illness

they earnestly endeavored to maintain

the dignity, love, and comfort

that she deserved.

She remained with them

In care and love,

for the duration of her life.


She was surrounded by such great love

through all these times.

Loving angels cared for her diligently

with children .

They sustained her through her illness

and she sustained them.

Late in her life, a grandson came

and caressed her cheek,

as she had done once long ago .

She then faded,

and traveled once again.


She embarked once more

on another journey,

to meet her beloved.

She patiently waited with faith

in soul’s heart,

sitting on her suitcase,

filled with love, and kindness.

She waited with joy

to unlock it,

for those who would come to greet her .

Pray that once again they come quickly

to see a gentle smile,

and loving face,

to quickly welcome her

into an all loving,

encompassing embrace


G_d have mercy,

Bless, and keep the soul of the immigrant,

so that the memory,

may be always in our hearts,

as we journey far

and on our very own.













Peter W. Chaltas is an entrepreneurial poet and has been writing poetry since the age of 16 when his father passed away. He was educated at Trinity college at the University of Toronto, and majored in Literature and Philosophy. In his fifties, he became an online twitter poet. His work has since been published in online publications like, as well as on his website Over the years, he has written 14 collections relating to art, poetry, creativity, love, loss, death,and nature. The One, spirituality, the figure of Christ, and the alienation and loneliness of the immigrant, the forgotten outsider, and the survivor are also dominant themes in his work. These poems were meditations and therapy written for himself that, until recently, were unpublished, and shared with only his closest confidants. After many years of consideration, he is now publishing his works, and reciting his poetry in public.
In 2012 he published a limited edition of poetry called « Seeds of Self Fulfilment. Work of Love. »
In 2015 he published « Free Verse in Useless Times »


A self described « Willing servant of The Word and art », some of Peter’s own personal favourite aphorisms are « The eye is a lily on arched stem bending down observing every thing », « One can be more than One, at One time » , as well as Moshe Safdie’s maxim « He who seeks Truth, shall find Beauty ».


Peter is also actively involved in, and blogs on topics such as entrepreneurship, and fashion and has had a long and varied career as an entrepreneur. He has a background in graphics and apparel; been a restauranteur; and a real estate agent, builder, and investor. He is passionate about poetry, photography, and art. In his heart of hearts his essence is that of artist, and poet musing on the truths of the human condition.

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