Evensong

Posted on November 28, 2021 by aperture

From where 
Does that voice
Of home, of love
Emanate from
For you?

Mine in the silence
Stillness of morning
Liminal spaces
In between times

Waking and falling
Daily repeat
Comfort only
Listening sweet

As waves in chorus
Between the staves
Low vocal tones
Violincello

Hum of engine
Breeze on wing
Chatter of trees
Sky ocean mirroring

I have seen some
Listening for love
From afar, voices echo
From ruins and scars

But mine here and now
Alive and loud
Any less and how
Could I stand so proud?

So I sing evensong
Night and day
Short and long
To remind me and all

To listen to the voice
That proclaims you worthy
That the life you dream 
To live is real

If only
Within you

Artists of Tasmania ~ *Lucienne Rickard, loss of wildlife on Lord Howe Isl. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.*

Hidden theatre

Posted on November 27, 2021 by aperture

Behind closed doors
Concertos applaud
Vacant space
Unadorned
With gazing eyes
Wondrous smiles
Shoulder shrug
Of thrilling chills
Why keep such love
Of life's liszt
Behind closed doors
When all ears could feel
This beauty

*The Hedberg, Conservatorium of Music, Tasmania.*

How long?

Posted on November 26, 2021 by aperture

How long can we last
Without sunshine
Sustenance 
Living water?

How far can we go
On two legs
Two wheels
Four tyres?

How many weeks 
Can I laugh out loud
Suppress a smile
Dream a while?

How long have you got?

As surely as

Posted on November 25, 2021 by aperture

Leaves are biding
Their time till fall
Soaking in sunshine
Cascading green wall

Clouds cover mountains 
Blanketing dew
Drifting to sea
Each morning new

Human way of being
If ever any question
Is we're always feeling
All feel the same as you

Falling

Posted on November 22, 2021 by aperture

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

Posted on November 21, 2021 by aperture

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

These days

Posted on November 21, 2021 by aperture

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

Belonging

Posted on November 20, 2021 by aperture

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?

Love me two times

Posted on November 20, 2021 by aperture

I've been around the world
At sea, floating, fighting
Sweating, delighting
In the vastness 
Of ocean
Beauty
Deep

Yet, there is no one
Anywhere who
Inspires such
Imagination
As you
For me

Strange days

Posted on November 20, 2021 by aperture

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