For nigh on a decade Enchanted by tales Of wildest places Where rough edges Bleed out to sea Coarsing through veins Lungs of the world Clutching the land For all its worth From those who take, take..
I trip tentatively Through swathes of natives Unknowingly trampling Rare plants Smudging invasive seed Into mud with sodden tread
No permission to collect I take and take, greedily Hoping vainly To strike a fragile quill A tendril root, a mere bud To bring home all I love
But instead, I raised beds Of shrunken dried specimens Memories snipped from whence they came Never to grow again. Now I learn and dissect Identify how similar or different The naming of all things Already taken place A namesake now only left For stone engraving.
Light and gentle movement Stretch and bolster vitality Sending hope waves through the brain. Invitations to Sunday afternoon Drives winding through rainforest Sunlight dapples breath taking To a hotel nestled in gentle folds Of ancient mountain. Return to oneself. Bathe in possibility lain broken. Dare not feed the narrative of turbulent deep dreams Though if disturbed by slumber's provocative story telling Hope awakens with bird song daily Dreams escaped To a reality which is perhaps dull in comparison.
Morning snow at Mount Field National Park Tasmania
Trials and fails of fiction Matches made in low-lit bars,cafe's and gas stations. Shake off sticky cling of connection plagued by interference. The Editor stands looming over head. Hiding in some alpine cloud or cave under ridgeline. Heavy pen pressed to storyline. Poised, ready to edit me out of one's life.
The Snowgum Trail, Tarn Shelf, Mount Field National Park in Tasmania
Hesitant is a friend until the next wave of my wandering. Stories untold how to salvage after the fire consumes everything End is not always loss when so much worth was claimed. Happenstance turned us both down left and right field of remembrance. Standing at opposite sides of the will, wake up to all the things you said. Let it blaze inside the mind for a wishful younger self. Spurn at the thought of marked embrace, that leftover sweet touch of soft centre pending.
We all cried out With our spiral perms Bouncing in disco blue light
How I know?.. Walking longing on leash Through swathes of native grassland Hoping against all hope To find a glimmer of flower More delicious than weed
Rolling in bed with heartburn Late into night and early morn Standing in the kitchen alone with thoughts Salvaging burnt toast again
.. if this is really love
Listening to songs of mourn Tributes to ache across eons On repeat
Wonder where the strength Is found within As time goes on Their pulse overtakes mine Face more alluring Lines soften and fade Walls fall Clothes line the floor No turning around Or so I've found
Beauty of holding Breath expelled Quick succession Balloon fills its girth Hearts beat like hooves On cup day Tension mounts Truth like a pin prick Bursts as flaccid pieces Fall gently at four feet Questions at ease Posed so handsomely Hold hands and jump Into a sea of soliloquy Knowing who one wants to be Wayfaring strangers are we
