Falling

Swept
Breath
Fall

Off their feet
Taken away
On their knees

Sounds divine?
We have a lifetime
To work it out
How to live in love

From this position
Upturned
Breathless
Lying low

We will need
Every day
However long
It should take

To know
How to stand
Held hands
Walk on
Artists of Tasmania ~ William Buelow Gould, Kennedia prostrata, Red prostrate creeper. C 1837.

Allport Library and Museum Collection, State Library of Tasmania.

Ruffled

Pure delight
Little fingers find
Feathery treasure
Waving its finery

We shed parts
Of ourselves
For friends keep
To admire

In sharing
They grow
Lighter
Fly higher

Lament
Those of us
Left behind
Artists of Tasmania ~ Lucienne Rickard, loss of wildlife on Lord Howe Isl. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.

Indelicate words

The opening scene and theme
Of Four Weddings and a Funeral
Say the most indelicate word
In such a proper way

To convey intense feelings
For somebody or thing
Fear of missing out on love
The act of not giving in

Perhaps this word invades my mind
In such a proper way of late
Simply because frustration of
No other words to say

When someone has captured completely
All senses pervading with
The delight in submitting willingly
To the plight of love's great gift

These days

Even today
I smile again
A knowing one
How on earth
Can we truly know
Anything at all?
We can

On the odd day
I stumble and fall
Grasping for
Something solid
Committing to
Falling ungracefully
Hoping that days
Like today
Will come again
Tomorrow

If all the days
Were even
How would I know
How glorious it is
To rise above
The odds

Both sides now

When the shoe fits
On the other foot
A new perspective
Holding on edge
Of her world

Every time we meet
In the public eye
I wonder whether
The luckiest am I

Every time we see
Another night
I wonder whether
The last sight

Every time we hear
The same old songs
I wonder whether
They're ever wrong

Every time we lie
Wanting nothing
I wonder whether
Love we bring can

Let it be

Belonging

If a sprout takes root
On an Island
That drifts away
Heading South
It was always there

Seeds that flew in
On the breeze
Hosted by birds
Do we blame these
Mixed leaves?

So what happens
When I wander hills
Wondering whether
This bloom or that
Warrants attention

Is all life
Worth a mention?

Strange days

How I marvel when 
Horror and strife
Make ordinary turbulence
Seem trifling

How one image 
in the wilderness
Ignite a longing
Lifelong

To be inspired
To be present
In the last days
In the silence

Is an aspiration
Over which we have
No accord
Though truly

Authenticity
Girded by love
Will always be a
Heavy weight

I bear it 
With a smile
A laugh, song
Stride in step
Love thee well
Nicholls Rivulet, Tasmania, Australia

Night lights

Pounding pavement
To heavy beat
Lyrical mind
Street light

For years
Out for beers
Surfing couch
Playing it out

Pictures fleeting
Across the mind
Though deleted
Etched in time

The places we went
Together simply
By sharing
A moment in pixels

Strange to wish
Yourself into being
Jealous of seeing
Family and friends

One day I will find
When put first
In my kind
My tribe

What it's like
To be loved by all
Arise alone
And smile

If I'd grown
Nearby
Looking up to
Those girls

Where would I be now?