Some Other Soul

Save me not
From this world
Shop of horrors

One who will
Save me yet
From myself

Perpetual
Broken heartedness
Self imposed abandon

Whose presence
Has gravity
Of the kind kind

Holds up a mirror
Says, I like your flaws
They match your expectations

Then we hold hands
Into the wide blue
Sky, sea and yonder

Once it turns
Red, orange, pink
Sit in wonder

Till sleep befalls
Stars unnumbered
Past light future wish

Some other soul
Like mine

Longer still

Once you are away
From your childhood home
Many years past
One still dreams
Of flying away from it
Telling you it's time
To move on

Long gone down river
From sacred moments
Of coming out
To the world
One still dreams
Of a sleeping lover
Tip toe past her
Not to awaken love
If she'd rather slumber

Moving through the world
Of faces lit bright red
At night by dining tables
Revelry and mist mingle
In the air
Faces become familiar
Still imposed on new..
Old loves flicker
Features compose comfort

We cannot move away
Neither day or sleep
The divine touch
A muse, a fire
A demi-god
Living humbly in suburbia
Capture our inner eyes
So that we may dream well
Forever
Kettering, Tasmania

The shape of story

Oral histories magnify
Astronomical events
Cave art gallery
Match sedimentary layers

Outpouring of devotion
Astronomical event
Cave art theologian
My sentiment within

One, oral story teller
Other, evolutionary
How complementary
They could be

Can they evolve together?
Sew stories bound
By braided sweetgrass
Bonded by human nature

Volumes of unspoken story
Sit in digital pond
Stagnant, growing heavy
From lack of light

Let there be...
Clarke Cliffs, Tasman Peninsula, Tasmania

Silence speaks

A source of great strength 
A true friend who never betrays
The sleep that nourishes wisdom
More powerful than proving a point
It is golden
A sanctuary for the soul or
An ultimate weapon of power

Whether embraced or imposed
May your silence be filled with bird song and laughter
By this, if a weapon, may it lose its power.

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.

Bravest

The bravest 
Most courageous one
On the face
Of the earth

The one who wakes
Their truest self
Does their best
To face humiliation

They think they are alone
Until someone -
Rather than dart away
stand opposed or
Laugh in their face
- stands beside
Unites. Then they are two.

An honour it is to stand
With one who boldly
Nobly, quietly
Faces the day

Never alone
Boatsheds by the water at Cornelian Bay