These warm grey days
Staccato rain, occasional
Blasts of wild west wind
Drop down the lee of the mountain
Resonating with inner barometer
Warm, still body
Turbulent thoughts, occasional
Gusts of the past kick up
Sting the eyes, dry the mouth
Waiting for a warm spring downpour
Persistent trill, soft beat of drum on skin
Melds with melancholy strings
A Symphony of meteorological sounds
Without and within
Once all disaster
Terror and misfortune
Evaporate
Into yesterday's news
Hope remains
Often locked inside
Bereft of seeing daylight
For to hold in one hand
Hurts far more than
A lifeline with frayed end
Donaghy’s Hill, Franklin Wild-Rivers National Park, Tasmania
Qu'est-ce qu'on attend pour être heureux?
What are you waiting for in order to be happy?
Decades of desolation
A moonscape remains
Drilling to heart of earth
Taking all man claims
Terror evacuates
Landscape starts to breathe
The mark of devastation
Healed by tiny seeds
Conditions just right
Warm humidity of desire
Moisture of overflowing tears
Still silence of time
Ticking by...
Nature is mother, sister
Lover, daughter-child
Harbouring life's wonders
For all hearts grown wild
How does one commune
With one who is loved
When there is no 'us'
Surely, the trees agree
To touching leaves
While twit, thrush and sparrow
Alight Cupid's arrow
Marsupials stare longingly
While chewing on yearnings
A copperhead rises high
To consider taste of thigh
How would one know
Which love is delight
Without venturing wild
Avoiding its bite!
