A few Poetic Thoughts
Circle of Life
there is a certain measure of wholesomeness
that connects all aspects of our lives
simple honest wisdoms
that will guide us
basic human survival
can be represented
by a simple garden…
you see, if we keep the Earth healthy
and grow our food in rich soil
then our food will be healthy
if our food is healthy
our body is too
if the Earth & our food & our bodies
are all healthy
our minds will be healthy as well…
…if we feed the Earth
made from our left over vegetable matter
we enrich the soil
for next season’s crop
which enriches us…
the physical activity
of maintaining a garden
is good for body spirit soul
our renewed energies
the vibrations of the universe
replenishing what has been taken
and so we become
part of the circle
the circle of life;
why is that so hard
for so many to understand
the Earth really is beautiful
....why can't more people see that?
so wrapped up in the world that man has created
that they no longer see
a thousand shades green
daisies & dandelions
how many notice
a beetle …. a bug
a stripy lizard basking on a log
the hawk that glides
in an ever-changing sky -
why… please tell me why…
to gaze upon such breathless sights
as a garden weed
… a moth at night
mist on the mountain’s peak
a bird in graceful flight…
I could no sooner forget
how to breathe
then to not pause in my day
to gaze at things
so many don’t seem to see….
Meditating in Earthy Auras
melting with ecstasy
into azure emotions…
sky blue dirty dancing
with virgin white innocence
music moves to an obscure
cadence that caresses
the edges of time…
doesn’t anyone hear
the ancient song on the wind?
aromas drift in earthy traces
blends in merging mixtures
wild flower fragrance – fusions
honeyed layers of
does no one smell
the calming remedy
of untainted air?
the trees breath around me
the earth beats
to an primeval drum
sing in voices
for the chaotic
world to hear…
why do so few
my breathing slows
to whispering echoes
and I hear
the worms sing…
I don’t know why I decided to walk across the Nullarbor Plain;
it was the late seventies, I was almost 17 years old
and it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time;
I had spent the seventies traveling with my parents
and had circumnavigated Australia a number of times,
the bush was no stranger to me,
so traveling on to major capital cities such as Adelaide or Melbourne
had felt like the scarier option.
I did not know much about cities or city life then
and although the Nullarbor route also led to a city
it was smaller and more colonial;
at least back then it was more colonial,
these days it’s a bustling city, port and international gateway.
Spreading along the beautiful west coast
Perth is the capital of Western Australia,
one of our more remote and vaster states.
There was no real reason for heading to Perth
other than the way offered a quieter path
and it was not until I had spent a few days
and nights walking and camping
that I began to notice subtle changes were taking place,
mostly within myself.
I noticed that my soul seemed calmer and quieter,
that the bottled-up tension and hostilities
were dissipating with each step;
my mind was less chaotic and more observant.
My surroundings slowly changed
with each unwavering footfall that echoed on the road
and I began to see more clearly; almost too clearly.
I thought I could see and feel a faint humming luminance
vibrating around each tree and plant,
often merging and overlapping
to form new colors and vibrations.
I had experienced something like this once before
when camped on the edge of a desert;
the undulating sand-ripples caused by an ever-present wind
hypnotized and bewitched me…
I fancied I heard the heartbeat of the very earth itself,
the red desert sand seemed to glow like fire.
I walked through the long silent days and into each night
medicated by nature’s soft soothing melody;
birds followed my path dipping and darting from tree to tree
swooping high into the sky in the open patches that broke up the bush.
When I stepped over their invisible border they would turn back, skimming through branches with practiced ease and other birds would take up the role
of guide or guardian.....
At night the sky was silky and soft,
as dark and shiny as ebony and brilliantly lit;
a warm breeze ruffled the trees
and created currents of dust that eddied around tree trunks
and swirled through the bare patches.
I wasn’t scared; I didn’t think there was anything to be frightened of,
so I slept soundly under the cover of night
and woke each morning to a dazzling new dawn.
I discovered a lot about my blossoming young self on that long walk;
I learnt that I actually didn’t mind my own company;
that silence didn’t have to be filled,
rather it should be respected and fostered and listened to;
I learnt that trees have a life energy of their own
and that the earth resonates with hushed vibrations.
I felt at home.
More at home in a sleeping bag on the dirt
then I ever felt, in the years that followed
when I shared a city with a million others.
When I knew that I was close to the sea
I veered off the road,
picking my way through stubby bush and stunted trees.
I heard and smelt and felt the ocean
long before I reached the rocky cliff that dropped into the broiling waves.
With surprising nerve, for I do have a slight fear of heights,
I approached the edge of the cliff;
far below powerful waves thundered onto large smooth boulders,
spraying up and raining back down with a regular surging backwash.
The earth shivered with delight.
That night the moon seemed to be ringed with a soft saffron nimbus
of incandescent light that skimmed across the ocean like a beacon.
It was a bright night;
good for traveling,
but I felt captivated and did not want to leave.
The leaves murmured a soft lullaby,
accompanied by the deeper rumble of the rhythmic waves
as they crashed onto the rocks far below,
I closed my eyes and fell into a deep and peaceful sleep
with the moon as my nightlight and the stars my guardians.