As I think of those families mourning the children who died in the Uvalde Elementary School mass shooting in Texas I find myself reflecting on the shining eyes of my Grandchildren: whispering to me about the gift they have made for their Mum for Mothers Day, describing to me how they think they saw the Easter bunny,the light in their eyes as they open the birthday gifts we bring.I think of the love I have for them and how I would do anything to protect them from evil that lurches about and my heart weeps for the Grandparents and their lost grandchildrenin the Uvalde Massacre and who have to standby powerless watching their sons and daughters grapple with the loss of a child.
Poetry can not stop the pain, but poetry can give words to addressingthe agony.it can stand quietly by for those who are experiencing wrenching heartbreak at this time.
In memory of Uvalde’s children
our once big world now a global village
with space and time a lillyput in a satellite realm
is real its song of humanity
its agonising cry
today’s message carries
visions of a school shooting
school photos only left–
tiny faces peering out
their shining eyes
show all the little dreams
children dream
and strip to nakedness
a whole nation
staring once again at emptiness
we are the witness
with adults bent over in pain
– many in foetal position
holding their bodies
from its bloodbath
it is said giving attention
is the rarest and purest sense of generosity
focus on
a small town a primary school
a classroom
children
focus on
the good
alive in the agony of dissent
weaving
weaving in
I am proud to have a part in the affirmation of this wonderful newly realeased book by Dr. Beatriz Copello and published by Ginninderra Press. It was successfully launched last Friday evening and let’s hope the word spreads this is a collection of poetry not to be missed.
“Beatriz Copello’s words take us on a profound journey through the perilous life we all find ourselves leading, where hope is hidden and ancestral anguish drives us to seek meaning and hope”
Anne Summers, journalist
These extraordinary poems in Witches Women and Words have our hearts beating with rage. This powerfully evocative collection speaks frankly of the twists and turns, pains, despair and hopes of the woman, the human, the poet, the abused earth, her trees and seas and biodiversity.
In a world where “soldiers march blindfolded and mute” and of “wounds that never heal” It takes us on a journey: a witch’s broom, protection of a coven, and a cauldron of life’s struggles, to become free to allow the poem of woman to be created: “the poem born the poet a god”
She will have a voice, choose her destiny. You will be spellbound as you navigate these sensuous and imaginative poems where, “the persistent Southerly is a foreigner on this piece of soil” and “senses are like a tree in winter.”
This is not meant to be a peaceful read. This powerful collection of poetry by Beatriz Copello disturbs like her muse Neruda, with “words of fire, steel and hope. ” even as she writes “hope is hidden like a miser hides his riches.”
Colleen Keating, poet
Can we conjure a better world with the magic of words? Can women, in particular, escape the cruel prison of history? Beatriz Copello believes so. Though she is “scared she learns to walk again” and “lets her blood run wild” in her new book, Witches Women and Words. Even as the horrors of history reassert themselves, even when she is blindsided by the familiarity of death and haunted by lingering wounds in an atmosphere heavy with unspoken guilt, she “chooses life”. With wit, passion and grace, and above all infinite empathy for the pains we all share, she chooses it for all of us.
An exciting launch, not of one book, not of two books, but a launch of three books by Decima Wraxall. And I was honoured to be oart of this afternoon.
Poetry books: Flame, and Glimmers of Light and a memoir Stolen Fruit.
Thank you to Ginninderra Press for the beautiful books .
This can be called a back log due to a pandemic or it can be called passion, dedication and determination to writing. We called it the latter . Congratulations on a wonderful, warm and writer-enthused afternoon. As I said at the launch.
“This for sure is a monentous occasion. Finally, we are here to celebrate. We are gathered and rightly so Decima , for you have not allowed anything like pandemic or lockdowns to stop your writing. You have transcendented inertia to be here today with three books to launch. We have looked forwardd for so long to this bubbly celebration.
Listening to Verdi’s Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves
my heart weeps
tears fall
my body stills
paused for the people
those without a warm bed and a home tonight.
Yes victims of war
and today victims of disasters
especially todays flood victims here
And so the war in Ukraine continues.
To see the people leaving their homes
leaving their husbands, fathers, sons behind,
leaving their homeland in the thousands,
now up to 4 million women and children
displaced is horrible
a tragedy.
Who could imagine this would happen again
in the 21st century.
My heart and love go out to the people of Ukraine
and to the many people of Russia
who have the courage
to stand up and oppose this brutal invasion.
Former U.S president Barack Obama’s 2011 speech before the British Parliament said:
‘the longing for freedom or human dignity is not English, American, or Western, but universal, and beats in every heart’.
I say it again:
We are all Ukrainians.
Our destinies are intertwined
with the destines of all others on the planet
as monk and social activist Thomas Merton once observed:
“we do not exist for ourselves alone’.”
“Creation of the World” by Ukrainian iconographer Lyuba Yatskiv.
(Thank you to my Hildegardian friend Amanda Dillon for sourcing these sensitive icons by Ukraine iconologists.)
It is incredible to me that within 3 months of COP26 in Glasgow, a war was launched at the other end of Europe with the explicit threat of the use of nuclear weapons or the explosion of a nuclear energy facility. Beyond its implications for human beings, the environment impact would be catastrophic.
How do these 2 possibilities exist side-by-side in our culture? Why is there always staggering amounts of money readily available for the purchase of death technology, but it’s so difficult to find the will – let alone the money – to solve our environmental problems?
Where is all the toxic waste material, the rubble of the bombed out, burnt-to-a-cinder cities, like Mariupol, going to go? The environmental impact is part of the long term human impact, but it is never discussed. Maybe we need an international court for war crimes against nature? Lord have mercy. 🙏🏼💙🇺🇦💛🙏🏼
“Archangel Michael. The defeat of satan” by Ukrainian iconographer, Kateryna Kuziv.
Praying for the defeat of the evil of war.
A friend has researched and shared Ukrainians icons
that are very touching and I would like to share them here
Thank you Amanda for giving me permission to share
Sending spirit of peace, of bright starlight over fields of barley
These are horrible, tragic times and my heart and love go out to the people of Ukraine, and to the many people of Russia who have the courage to stand up and oppose this brutal invasion.
The tragic and unnecessary invasion, which has already displaced more than 2 million people that have fled across Ukraine’s borders with neighbouring countries, is not only killing and wounding the lives of so many -but also attempting to kill the dreams of a future that so many hold dearly.
Former U.S president Barack Obama’s 2011 speech before the British Parliament said:
‘the longing for freedom or human dignity is not English, American, or Western, but universal, and beats in every heart’.
We are all Ukrainians. Our destinies are intertwined with the destines of all others on the planet
as monk and social activist Thomas Merton once observed:
“we do not exist for ourselves alone’.”
A friend has researched and shared Ukrainians icons that are very touching and I would like to share them here
‘Nativity’ by Ukrainian iconographer Ulyana Tomkevych
Sending love and hope to all the pregnant women and mothers caught up in the atrocities of war
* * * * * * * * * *
‘Crossing the Red Sea’ by Ukrainian iconographer Ivank Demchuk.
Sending safe passage to all those trying to find safe passage through and out of Ukraine May you be sheltered in thisexodus.
* * * * * * * * * *
The Visitation by Ulayana Tomkevych
Sending love to all women in Ukraine who are looking after older parents and young children and having to make decisions of staying or leaving their beloved war-torn homeland.
* * * * * * * * * *
“The Protection of the Mother of God”
by Ukrainian iconographer Ulyana Tomkevych . How can we imagine what it would be like to live in a n ancient and beloved and beautiful city and be told it is going to be bombed and destroyed for no reason. How does one cope with this?
The 10th and final issue of the much-loved journal, Windfall: Australian Haiku, was released in January 2022.
Windfall is an annual journal edited by Beverley George and published by Peter Macrow at Blue Giraffe Press. The cover artwork is by Ron C. Moss, with design and layout by Matthew C. George.
Originating in Japan, the popularity of this short poetic genre has spread widely around the globe. Australian interest in haiku dates as far back as 1899 when an Australian haiku competition was conducted(1). Subsequently, in the 1970s, Janice Bostok produced Australia’s first haiku magazine, Tweed(2).
More recently, the Australian journal, paper wasp, ran for 20 years until ceasing publication in 2016 and, with the internet leading to growing interest in the genre, other print and online journals have encouraged and supported the writing of haiku.
For the past ten years, Windfall has focused solely on haiku about Australian urban and rural life, written by Australian residents. These poems have incorporated many elements of our landscapes, seasons, flora and fauna into the haiku form.
spring equinox over the moonlit creek a pobblebonk chorus
Mark Miller
leading into sundown dingo tracks
Tom Staudt
virgin rainforest ninety-four rings on a fresh cut stump
Andrew Hede
Nature haiku such as these enable Australians and others to appreciate images and sounds associated with the birds, animals and plants of this country.
waning moon in the mangroves fireflies stir
Maureen Sexton
rising heat a jabiru crosses the sun
Cynthia Rowe
winter afternoon — golden wattle glows on black sky canvas
Sheryl Hemphill
Windfall has chronicled some of the best Australian haiku for a decade. Issue 10 presents haiku by 63 poets. By my count, 20 of these poets also appeared in Issue 1, which suggests around 40 of the current Windfall poets have emerged in the intervening period. The growing Australian haiku community certainly includes a healthy influx of fresh voices and fresh ideas.
Some poems in Windfall relate to the interaction between nature and the human environment.
opera house steps a long-nosed fur seal soaks up the sunshine
Vanessa Proctor
rainforest glade an empty packet of Smith’s catches the sun
Nathan Sidney
While others use local flora and fauna to portray aspects of Australian behaviour and culture.
black cockatoos in tree shadows he stops treatment
Earl Livings
beachside walk the roughness of banksia pods
Nathalie Buckland
dunny without a door . . . the Milky Way
Leanne Mumford
Credit for Windfall’s success must go to editor, Beverley George, and to publisher, Peter Macrow. Beverley’s deep knowledge of the haiku form has enabled her to assemble a marvellous selection of Australian haiku for each edition of Windfall, while Peter has supported the journal throughout its life.
Beverley George selected the following haiku to conclude the 10th issue of Windfall. It was a wonderful choice, with the poem capturing a quintessentially Australian scene. But, more than that, the poem does not despair about ending. Rather, the poem celebrates the vitality of birth and renewal.
sheltered paddock the udder punch of a newborn
Glenys Ferguson
For ten years, Windfall has made an important contribution in recording the work of Australian haiku poets. Now, we all look to the future.
Review by Gregory Piko
A limited number of back issues of Windfall (No. 4 to No. 9) and of the final issue (No. 10) are available for $10 per copy, postage included. Cash or stamps are welcome, as are cheques payable to Peter Macrow. Please address to:
Peter Macrow 6/16 Osborne Street Sandy Bay TAS 7005
sometimes it takes sadness loss an empty room
to painfully be aware of presence
sometimes it takes stillness of breath
to remind us to breathe deeply
consciously with gratitude
sometimes it takes silence
to remind us to sing
and find
presence
breath
song
we did today
our first bush walk since our world changed
and we take time to adjust
to a new life without Pat in our world
an amazing eucalypt stopped us in our tracks
a grand old lady holding forth
fully present
from each angle she commandeered our attention
the light played beautifully along her trunk
adding to her starling presence
colours and tones of nature
naturalness
messiness
especially the scruffy banksia men
trunks, bark, brambles decay
ant-eating bores seed pods
humus of leaf litter
were catching my eye
with a chaotic beauty that satisfied me
still feeling close to the out of control
and sense of rawness that is reality
when we experience the threshold of transition
for it takes time to find
ways to close off and re-protect ourselves
yet the music of birds
the baby wren that flew out
on a branch to greet us
the kookaburras,
the goanna that stayed for a photo
the blue and stunning black butterfly that didn’t stay
a few straggler flannel flowers
reminding us of our lockdown spring walks
where we marvelled at their abundance
and their star-light quality
At the top of Crackneck Mountain
we stopped to have a cuppa and muesli bar
marvelled at the grandeur of the ocean spread out
in all its glory
never ceasing to amaze and delight
we walked down the mountain
taking the outer less worn track
where we were reminded of new life
as fresh lime-green candles of banksia
brightly shone
and young callow sprigs of Xanthorrhoea *
their flounce like ballerinas in their grass shirts
the first breath of wind will have them dancing.
*’Xanthorrhoea’is the name for what we mostly call the grass tree. It means ‘yellow flow’ in ancient Greek and refers to its resin. This resin was much prized by Aboriginal people, being used as a glue or as a coating/waterproofing material. The early settlers also found it extremely useful, as a glue, a varnish, polish and a coating of tin materials. It was used in the sizing of paper, in soap and perfumery and even in the manufacture of early gramophone records.
The Society of Women Writers enjoyed a festive dayl face to face
(for the first time for months as the meetings have been held by zoom)
A fun workshop on humour in our writing.
Two great speakers including poet and close friend Pip Griffin giving the authors talk as she told us of the three latest publications which I have spoken of before in more detail.
and then 5 poets
including me enterained the group.
Below is the well known poet and Haikuist, Beverley George and I dressed ready ready for our performance
which was a poem about a catch up of two friends reminiscing about by gone days. It was written by Beverley a few years back and won a FAW award. We generated plenty of laughter what we needed today.
Below is a collage of our Christmas celebration. from the Society’s website.
Two of my poems read as part of the performance.
taking wings
if ever there were a summer day so perfect
so romantic under its mild autumn sun
constantly making love to the trees and flowers
that it made you wish to tear at your shackles
rip off your yoke
feel exposed to its sharp pinion
and to give yourself over to brash colour
without an iota of worry
a day that made you pack a sandwich
and with a bottle of water to set out
to walk quiet ways catching the song
of tiny birds brimming in wild blackberry brambles
and for a moment feel your heart sing
with even a quaver of gratitude
well today is just that kind of day
from Fire on Waterby Colleen Keating pg.107
Scriptorium
Maybe it is the light
that illuminates jars
of coloured minerals, powders.
Maybe the smell of curing skin,
or sharp tang of vinegar.
It could be the plaited basket
of moss and flower, blue woad dye
or sharp smell of ink
pestled down from bald-oak.
Maybe the sight of scrolls
rolled into alcoves
or shelved parchments,
or the elaborate books of saints
behind the monk Volmar,
enshrined on the cumdach.
Perhaps it’s the copy of Ptolemy’s Astronomy,
or the manuscripts
Volmar points out,
from all over the Christian and Arab world.
Maybe just crossing the threshold
when Hildegard steps through the door,
inhales the air
and feels immediately at home
in a world that sharpens curiosity.
Hildegard knows,
she has found her calling.
She wants to be a maker of books.
from Hildegard of Bingen: A poetic journey
Just for fun this is a photo of Beverley and me . It was taken at our performance of the same poem at the retreat a few years back.
“Glance at the sun. See the moon and the stars. Gaze at the beauty of earth’s greenings. Now, think. What delight God gives to humankind with all these things . All nature is at the disposal of humankind. We are to work with it.For without we cannot survive.” – Hildegard of Bingen
I love this quotation by Eleanor Roosevelt:
“I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity.”
Curiosity is the precursor to scientific breakthroughs, to all great literature and art. Albert Einstein said,
“I have no special talent, I am only passionately curious.”
He also said, “Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.”
That’s exactly what Hildegard possessed–a holy curiosity. She must have jumped out of bed every morning, eager to discover something new. She walked the earth with the fervent belief that God placed everything here for our discovery and enjoyment. In her science book Causae et Curae, Hildegard writes about topics as varied as medicine, human sexuality, astronomy, and theology. Her science wasn’t always spot on. “There are also the five planets….And as a human’s five senses hold the body together, so too these five planets hold the sun together and are its ornament” (Causae et Curae page 29, as translated by Margaret Berger).
But the breadth and depth of her investigations into the world around her were truly staggering for a 12th century nun.
I’m sure if she were here today, Hildegard would tell you that curiosity, just like her 35 virtues, could be cultivated and enhanced with a little effort on our part.
Sarah’s suggestions in her daily Living Hildegard blog are
Explore an old path and look at it with fresh eyes. Read a magazine you wouldn’t normally pick up. Learn something new. Make a new friend. Travel to a different place. Take a class. Pick up a new language or a musical instrument–proven ways to keep your brain sharp into old age.
Hildegard may be the first and best example of a commitment to lifelong learning coupled with the courage to branch out into the unknown.
It’s good for your heart, health and brain to step outside your comfort zone and explore something new.
Thank you to the brilliant blogs Healthy Hildegard and the daily blog Living Hildegard with Sarah Rhiem
Explore an old path and look at it with fresh eyes.
Curiosity on our local walk today
The play of light on the Red Gum with the peeling of bark stoped me in my tracks.
Michael enjoying the calm greeness of the stand of Red woods
The ferns in the forest today were very active. I love the way this koru has unfolded and now all the secondary korus are unfolding. I have caught it in a moment of time.
Curiosity: Here we were amazed at the uncurling stage of the new fronds. I don’t think this photo does it justice but up close for Michael and I we were full of wonder at the unfurling of creation.
Wet and dry reflections.Beneath my feet. The ferns reflected. It takes a moment for your eyes to see the play of light and silhouette.
What an amazing fungus. And the blood red colours of the trunk and play of light caught our attention for ages.
So lovely to be in our Cathedral of light and peace with the music of the tinkling creek backgrounded by bird song.
Reflections along the creek. We enjoyed the tinkling and bubbling sound of running water too.
Our monarch butterfly danced for us a graceful beauitful performance.
Back home we were still full of wonder and gratitude for a refreshing and healing walk. Our curiosity sated for today.
