Trio

Wanderlust
Takes me to wildest corners
Of intricate landsape

Innumerable explosions
Of spores, gills
Parasols of dew

They do not mind
How many they number
Two or thirty

The more the merrier

Shared essence of being
Though less gregarious
We humans seem
Mycena interrupta, pixie’s parasols ~ Clarke Cliffs walk, Tasmania.

Selke

How wholesome, it was said
We did meet by river bed
Rock pools swirling
Dreaming of past lives at sea.

Our shared love of its creatures
A saltwater one, like me.
Stories of islands, voyages, cabin mates amd treasures found in giant clam shells.

Obsessions with tropical rainforests laden with a kaleidescope of butterflies.

Photographs in our minds of oceans, still as a pool with only the splash of flying fish disturbing the miniscus of brightly lit surface at sunset.

Within weeks, the cracks show

The lives of loves lost at sea a favourite sea shanty

Mine like sleeping volcanoes dotting the edges of tectonic plates all over the Pacific. Yet, their mere breath a flourishing of life, feeding schools of every species ocean wide.

The great diversity of my mind.

I did not lose my skin nor dignity, though sailing too close to the wind.

To one solo creature I hold dear, the ocean many leagues deep knows how far apart love and envy are.

Fair winds and following seas.

Rewilding

In the North
On this day
A million Painted Ladies
Drifted on highways
Of warm s'easterlies

Descended upon wild ancient
Lands remembered
To cocoon, feast and rise once again.

Artistic impressions of papillons
Adorn my door, socks, scarf
My eyes have never gazed upon
Such species near or far.

Do they dwindle and fade,
Will glossy scales fall?
Inevitably, yes
In a day.

How perfect that nature's most subtle beauty
Would feast on loathesome thistle, so thoroughly
To cause a whole crop to fail.

As I nestle in seasons of woven tales from near and far
Aran Islands to Chile
I, too, weave a cocoon
Each to each stitch laid bare, thoughts of places
I've never seen
Near and far -
Some I'd never dare

For slowly, I too, will lose the gloss of youth.
Not before I, and many more
Ravenously erode the fields
of prickly weed

For, come spring -
Who knows what I might be.

Poem inspired by the film, Wilding, 2025.

Fruiting bodies

Life abounds on the edge
We always knew the rainbow
Not lines of solid colours
A spectrum of hues

Our very DNA intermingles
Since time immemorial
Generations of story tellers
Minced with scientific truths

A new kind of love walks around
Nods at one another,
Knowingly
Formerly L, G, B or Q

Now are plus beings
Who love one not defined
By straight lines
Yet familiar it is, human

With fruiting bodies
Taking on attributes
Of one another
Perfect symmetry of life

Far and wide

Will I set it free?
To wander monsoon streets
Slip into fever dreams
Strap to airplane seats
Will I loosen from its nest
Inside of me?

To fly above swirling schools
Of fish perused
By cephalopods and seals?

Do I secure it soundly within
Cabin walls to sway
In tempestuous swells
Safely in your arms?

Do I unleash this love of mine
Deep-seated divine
Nestled in safe hands
Across unending oceans?

Holding untethered body
In its wake.

Forever residing in waves
That which joins all lands
Far and wide
Joints, muscles and sinew
Within us too.

Not drowning… waving

Know the signs
Between the flags
On any ordinary day
Means traffic lights
Warning you
Do not pass this way

A buoy in the storm
Mollusc island
Bobbing in deep blue
Someone to hold onto
Regardless of
Turbulence of waves

Deployed all receptive
Sensors listening
For escape pod
Down to the wire
Launch sodden sea bottom
Breath of salt air saves

Warm bodied creatures
Gravitate easy as breeze
Silent staring on horizon
Unison is what we crave
Debut on pontoon parade
Birds eye view amazed

Cohabiting cocoon
Licks salty tips
Of fingers
Like fish and chips
Living for the day
Sunny afternoon yacht race in still waters of Bellerive Quay.

Mountains

Altitude enlivens
Yet fear of falling
Thin air breathlessness
Is what I'm feeling
Upon a happenstance
Of sauntering past
All the minutiae
Of words, stories
Desires burning
Within you
Shared with my ears
But once in time
Rose in my core
So now I explore
The great mountain
Of remembering
What we were
View from kunanyi / Mount Wellington Tasmania