Poetry

Echidna Tracks Issue 16 Summer/Autumn 2026 by Colleen Keating

colleen Poetry , ,

I am very proud to be included in the latest Echidna Tracks   and honoured to be included with these amazing poets and lovers of haiku

Edition  Issue 16,Summer/Autumn 2026

Editor  Lynette Arden on November 24, 2025

grandpa’s plum tree
in its shade his grandson
savours the sweetness

Vanessa Proctor

soft drumbeats
as the service ends
a boy’s glance upward

Jo McInerney

reading the ode—
a rising sun glitters
on his slouch hat

Colleen Keating

luminous skies . . .
the wilting wildflowers
on a soldier’s grave

Samantha Sirimanne Hyde

“Australia, in the twenty-first century, is a vibrant multicultural society.

We hope to celebrate, through the haiku/senryu collected on this website,

the diversity of lifestyles, values, characters, customs, cultures,

and historical experiences of the people inhabiting Australia,

as well as the diversity of our landscapes, flora, and fauna.”

 

 

Ring the Bells by Colleen Keating: A Review

colleen General, Poetry, Ring the Bells , , , ,

Reviewed by Roslyn McFarland

Ring the Bells
by Colleen Keating
Ginninderra Press
August 2025, Paperback, 108 pages, ISBN: 9781761097157

Ring the Bells is Colleen Keating’s eighth published book of poetry, which is quite an achievement in itself.

This is a delightful collection – often thought provoking, sometimes poignant and always engaging.

Keating understands the times in which we live. As she says in her introduction, it is: ‘a broken world with personal

and collective emotions, pain of war and human travail that can bring us to our knees’.

But gloom and desperation aren’t options for this fine lyric poet. Her title Ring the Bells comes

from the chorus of Leonard Cohen’s song, ‘Anthem’:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

This effectively signposts that the poems which follow will not only preference hope and positivity over cynicism and despair,

but will also elucidate her expressed notion that the ‘beauty of nature and grace of humanity is our balm’.

Ring the Bells has been cleverly curated into four sections, each a kind of bell chime: Embracing light, Embracing dark,

Embracing life and lastly, Embracing love. In all four parts, it’s easy to see Keating’s deft and often delicate lyricism at work.

Her powerful sensory imagery is derived from the intensity of her gaze upon the ordinary and the extraordinary,

which for me is beautifully captured in ‘the visit’, with its close attention to detail and the allusion to Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem, ‘

The Windhover’.And while many of the poems in this volume reflect Keating’s enduring sense of wonder and awe

found within the natural world, there are many more that demonstrate the depth of her concern about our planet’s fragility,

as well as social inequality and injustice of all kinds  While her poetic voice is always gentle and compassionate,

her subjects range from bush fires, earthquakes in Türkiye and Syria, the plight of refugees, mass shootings in US schools,

COVID, the war in Ukraine and the injustice levelled at our first nations people –their dispossession, the deaths in custody,

the shame felt in knowing the truth of our nation’s history. Among her poems about love of family, death, loss and grief

there are meditations on everyday experience as in ‘while doing a grocery shop’.

And in ‘shared umbrella’, the simplicity and concision of the Zen-like revelation found here is clearly affecting:

so much is gained
by

a shared umbrella
with

synchronicity
of gait

besides the intimacy
of leaning in

In this and in several other poems, Keating displays not only her acute observation skills but also her fondness for minimalist Japanese forms.

That said, there are poems that show her critical eye and also underscore her willingness to experiment with form.

Especially notable is ‘intrusion’ where she satirises the relentless negativity of the news cycle in a style that reminded me of some of Bruce Dawe’s poems.

But there’s always a lightness of touch in all of Colleen Keating’s work. Especially noticed in the deeply personal, final poem ‘Celtic Knots’,

which also epitomises her overall message of the power of love. Its structure of 14 non-rhyming couplets metaphorically reinforces

the weaving together of form and function. It’s springtime in London, and Keating’s eight year old granddaughter

is teaching her to draw a Celtic Knot – that well-known symbol of eternity and interconnectedness of all things:

Our paths have crossed only four times since I helped
my daughter bring her into the world. But our bond

twines like a Celtic Knot even though our connecting
is mostly two screens quavering over FaceTime.

Aware of her own ageing, the poet’s mood becomes contemplative and downcast:

I won’t be here when the lessons coil like snakes
and she learns that beginnings become endings.

I won’t be here to remind her that endings are beginnings.

But a few lines later:

Again my daughter calls us outside to the garden to watch
two fledgling balls of feathers fluttering in the apple tree

We three stand, entwined arm in arm. Endings
seem far away.

There are many such little aperçus like this one throughout this wonderful suite of poems,

which made reading Ring the Bells such a delight for me. And I know I shall be dipping into its pages again and again.

About the reviewer: Roslyn McFarland is a fiction writer, poet and essayist, living in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney,

on the traditional lands of the Darug and Gandangara peoples. Having spent a great deal of her time in France and as a lover of the arts,

she was naturally drawn to the colourful life of the Australian WWII artist, Stella Bowen. The result is Foreign Attachments,

her second novel, published late 2024. Her first novel, All the Lives We’ve Lived was also published by Ginninderra Press in 2019.

While her novella, The Privacy of Art, was a Bronze Medal Winner in 2016 Global ebook Awards.

Roslyn has an MA in Creative Writing from UTS, and her poems, short stories, essays and reviews have appeared

in various print and online platforms. She is currently working on a suite of short stories. https://www.roslynmcfarland.com

 

Ros Spencer Poetry Prize . Second place in Poetry Competition by Colleen Keating

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First Prize

Rosa Christian On-Blue Horses

Second Prize

Collern Keating Last Way (Monument to Fallen Jewish People in Minsk, Belarus)

Highly Commended

John Beeson A Rime Winter’s Eve
Tim Loveday How to re-write a love poem

Commended

Kim Kenyon Things that are alived
David Terelinck How to become a Ghost

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ROS SPENCER POETRY PRIZE 2025 JUDGE’S REPORT

Thanks to WAPI for the invitation to judge this year’s Ros Spencer Prize – it is an honour and privilege to be asked to take on this role. 2025 saw more than 570 entries which is a testament to the strength of poetry writing in Australia and also to the prestige of this competition. The topics of the entries ranged from childhood memories, nature, war, philosophy, relationship issues and writing itself. The majority of poems were written in free form, but herein lies a danger – free form does not mean free of form. Rather, it requires the poet to create a new form or structure, both to allow the reader an invitation to read as well as to require judicious editing. A further issue with some of the poems is when dealing with topics such as the wars in Gaza and Ukraine, the writing needs to remain real and proximous, rather than a re-telling of footage seen on TV or social media. And the final issue with some entries is that poetry is not ‘cut-up’ prose. Rather, it is a more subtle use of language where imagery, rhythm and line/stanza breaks play as much importance as plot. Those poems that made up my final 20 and then 6 evoked a palpable sense of voice which lifted from page into ear.

Choosing the winning poems from such a vast field was a very difficult task resulting in numerous changes of mind as to the order.

Thanks to all of the poets who submitted work and congratulations to the winning writers. And many thanks to the Spencer family for their continued support of Australian poetry.

Prize-Winning Poems:

First Prize, “On–Blue Horses” by Rosa Christian

A poem that focusses upon the reading of another is a brave choice of subject matter, but in this case works beautifully. The writing is engaging and evocative, with the consistent use of questions a key part. Diction and imagery are handled extremely well, such as in these three lines: “Did she scribble her thoughts/ in an unconscious, eclamptic fit/ intellectual muscles twitching and spasming”, and the occasional breaking of the ‘fourth wall’ such as “(I imagine her using a fountain pen/ that elegant maker of words)”. The closure is succinct but continues the flow of ponder. An insightful and wonderful tribute to the writing of Mary Oliver and worthy winner.

Second Prize, Last Way (Monument to Fallen Jewish People In Minsk, Belarus) by Collen Keating

One of the few sestinas entered and the form works extremely well to invite focus on the subject matter. The end-words chosen create enough opportunities for wrap-around and finishing lines, and the diction is very evocative. Lines such as “moving//like a tethered camel train” and “numbingly real and its black/sky zithers with light” create a rich literary landscape, The fraught subject matter is deftly handled resulting in a succinct yet very powerful poem of considerable emotional depth.

Highly Commended Poems:

1 “A Rime Winter’s Eve” by John Beeson

Such brilliant diction usage in this poem, the glossary footnote reading like a poem itself. Rare to see a poem employing strict rhyme and stanza strictures, but these work beautifully to enhance the ‘olde world’ feeling. A true ballad which could quite easily become the text for a folk song. The flow of the unfolding tale is beguiling with the closure deftly handled. A real classic of storytelling woven into poetry.

2. “How to rewrite a love poem” by Tim Loveday

Very inventive use of stanzas that flit back and forth in time. To write a poem about writing a poem is a dangerous premise, but this works in a most engaging manner. The details contained within truly lift this poem’s readability, such as “Before the possum approaches & the hallway where we should have kissed” and “The length of our intimacy is not the life of a battery”. Quirky and very memorable.

Commended Poems: 

1.“things that are alived” by Kim Kenyon 

A poem with very strong diction and turns of phrase, such as an “indignation of crickets”, “fits into her limbs” and “Skin our noses/ on the mumble of mushrooms, gloaming of boulders, crackle of wing/ across light.” The form used in lines cascading inwards very much adds to the flow. An emotionally engaging discourse as to time spent between a mother and daughter.

2. “How to Become a Ghost” by David Terelinck

This poem uses a very proximous voice which reads in the manner of an instruction booklet. The stanza breaks and single lines are deployed in an insightful way, enhancing both flow and lines of importance. Use of diction is always inventive and line such as “light is crucial to death//the way it anoints the skull/potent momento mori/ to the ephemerality of//the world” give rise to a mantra-like feel. The final lines “just lead white skies/ silverpoint tracers/ and the pearlescent tears//of those who linger” are both profound and poignant.

Kevin Gillam

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First Prize

On-Blue Horses 

On re-reading Mary Oliver (American poet: died 2019)
this one throttled my heart until I nearly fainted.

I wonder … did she labour painfully
through the birth of her words
as I do?

Did she scribble her thoughts
in an unconscious, eclamptic fit
intellectual muscles twitching and spasming
as each contraction pushed
the infant poem into the glaring light
of public scrutiny.

Or, was her labour of another kind?
Did she mine in the heat of the moment
breathing hard, a Lamaze technique
of digging deep, searching for
lexiconic progeny in the placental
kimberlite pipes of the subconscious
to wrest from contemplative adits
rare gems of understanding
polishing and editing them
into shining diamonds
before presenting them to the world?

Did she grunt and gasp
as she delved for nuggets in
the hard ground of experience?
Did she sift gold from garbage
wash away the vernix
of the everyday dirt and grime
the worries, preoccupations, expectations?
Smelt and shape it

into its own inspired creation
that will last untarnished forever?

Or, did her issue
in an amniotic stream sublime
slide with ease from the uterine aether
pouring through Stebbin’s Gultch
‘…dashing… against the rocks, or pausing’
pass through her open heart
through her beautiful mind
out the pudendum
of her fountain pen?
(I imagine her using a fountain pen
that elegant maker of words)

Did her infant poem arrive fully formed?
limbs, digits, syntax in tact
spilling into the world
emotion, nuance, subtlety
to grow and proliferate then
sow its own inspirational seed
in fertile endometrial mind-fields
awaiting the ideal moment
to explode
into words of life?

‘…one of those gorgeous things’
a poem doing it perfectly.

Who knew that Blue Horses could say so much without speaking.

Rosa Christian

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Second Prize

Last Way
(Monument to Fallen Jewish People in Minsk, Belarus)

They grapple for footholds down the side of a pit
men, women, children, all huddled, un-named
in this bronze sculpture, patinaed ash-black;
emaciated, yet holding heads high, moving
like a tethered camel train, bare feet on the ground.
The last figure holds a one-string violin and plays

the thrum of a beat, a heart twang  – plays
a-pace for this staggering last way into the pit.
The first, arms crossed, eyes beyond the gaping ground
defiant in his death walk with this group un-named.
Each a shadow, twisted, each human silhouette moving
flesh pressed into flesh, last human touch. The black

wings of death, numbingly real and its black
sky zithers with light, as the secret note plays.
No fight, no anger but a procession, moving
closer to their end at the nadir of the pit.
Here sins of humanity rage un-named.
These twenty-seven will die on bone-scattered ground

a token for rivers of humanity caught on any ground.
One face tucked away into the body of another, black
fears are shunned as arms wrap little ones un-named.
The violin note quivers, like a breeze at dawn plays.
They falter on the eighteen stone steps to the pit.
Today each viewing, each angle of sight  a moving

reminder of the slide into evil. This is the point moving
the artist, who created it for this blooded ground
where in darkness of ignorance, humans are killed pit
–iful and alone. The sight that stands out in this black
mass is the slender intimacy of their necks. This plays
with thoughts of love, tender kisses, and being named.

Even in death a grace is found. Here it is named
in figures, taller than life, protecting each other, moving
with postures of terror, to a psalm the violinist plays.
Most look towards the sky, a few to the ground.
A wasted figure is carried, and a shadow, black
as a bird in flight, flickers. The canticle for a  death-pit

– a one-string lament the violinist plays. This is holy ground.
Even un-named, the scene is moving.
Dark fades, as black at dawn, yielding light to the pit.

Colleen Keating

 

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Wild Whispers Vol 1, Issue 2 by Colleen Keating

colleen Poetry , , ,

Wild Whispers

I am very excited to be published in the latest edition of Wild Whispers.

Vol 1 Issue 2.

Thank you to Tim Parkin, editor for Wild Whispers for his dedication to poetry.

Wild Whispers Vol 1, Issue 2  October 2025

delusions of grandeur

the ibis, tagged D44, rummages for crumbs
under our table, then walks off
with head high, with a sense self importance
thinking it’s in a place that calls it sacred

COLLEEN KEATING 

__________________________________________________________________

Your Poem Has Been Selected!

Hi Colleen,

Thank you so much for your recent submission! We’re delighted to let you know that your

following poem has been selected for Wild Whispers Poetry Magazine – Volume 1, Issue 2,

which will be published online in late October in our format.

delusions of grandeur

the ibis, tagged D44, rummages for crumbs

under our table, then walks off

with head high, with a sense self importance

thinking it’s in a place that calls it sacred

COLLEEN KEATING

We’re truly grateful to everyone who contributed to this issue – thank you for being part of it.

Warmest wishes,
The Wild Whispers Team

https://www.wildwhisperspoetrymagazine.com/

Selector: Tim Parkin
​
(Wild Whispers Poetry Magazine Issue 1, Volume 2 
In honour of  Lyn Marie  11th April, 2025.
Please pray for her soul and for the souls of women killed in family violence situations.)

____________________________________________________________________

Excited for Pip Griffin  to have her gorgeous haiku published in the first magazine earlier in the year.

Wild Whispers    Issue 1:1 April, 2025

eucalyptus trunks
shed ochre epistles
in the botanic gardens

Pip Griffin

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Some of my other 5  liner poems
shared umbrella   free verse     18 words
so much is gained
by a shared umbrella
with  synchronicity of gait
besides the intimacy
of leaning in
Colleen Keating Sydney, Australia
delusions of grandeur      free verse      28 words
the ibis, tagged D44, rummages for crumbs
under our table, then walks off
with head high, with a sense self importance
thinking it’s in a place that calls it sacred
Colleen Keating Sydney, Australia
mango               free verse    22 words
is a warm, yellow heart
with fragrance of a summer’s day
its smooth curved skin holding in
juicy flesh , bursting
with sunshine.
Colleen Keating Sydney, Australia
after William Carlos  Williams    free verse  16 words
so much depends upon
buttermilk  weed
the yellow monarch alights
in the sun-drenched field
Colleen Keating, Sydney , Australia
tanka
a lone seagull
on a busy city street
far from the harbour
sometimes I wish I had wings
to find my way home
Colleen Keating Sydney, Australia
tanka 
an empty sky
where the blue gum stood –
returning birds
perch on a brick wall
chirping incessantly
Colleen Keating Sydney. Australia
Colleen Keating is an award-winning Sydney, Australian poet.
Her poetry is published in journals and she has seven books of poetry.
She is the winner of the Phillipa Holland Poetry prize 2024.
 and Runner-up in the 2025 Ros Spencer WA Poetry Award.

Gymea Lily performance by Colleen Keating

colleen Bush walks, Poetry , , ,

First walk with Michael since his hospital visit and spring is sprung everywhere.

The azaleas especially are blooming spectacularly.

And then in the old Brick pit park the sun was shining fully onto seven Gymea Lilies.

 I read the name comes from the Dharawal language kai’mia  and anglicised  to Gymea.

It is was first described by the explorer Bass in the mid 18th century 

I climbed some metal fire stairs at the back of the gym to catch a close up and was thrilled at the photos. 

   

Eye-catching  rosettes

fire-engine red

stop  me.

Reaching high

into a still sunny afternoon

lofty rosettes of  red spear

petals

outdoing every other shrub ,

grevelles, banksia, callistemon

all showy on this spring day

yet if one  doesn’t look up

this shy,  vibrant  giant

of the plant world –

energetic  and bold

can be easily missed.

 

Colleen Keating

Haiku

gymea lily

eye catching rosette

so easily missed

 

 

 

 

Yolnju Power: The Art of Yirrkala at NSW Art Gallery by Colleen Keating

colleen Poetry

It was an amazing morning  at NSW Art Gallery.

We had the opportunity to experience the strength  and spirit of Yolnju culture

through the powerful works of art – from bold bark paintings to contemporary  video  and digital media.

Spanning over 80 years these art works from ArnhemLand speaks across  generations

with pride, resilience and creativity.

    

We tapped into a tour of the exhibition. We learnt that some of the display were copies of the originals in Canberra.

We also learnt of bark stripping techniques to provide  ‘canvases’ of variable size – peeling off in the wetter periods

and then straightened with hot rocks and sand.

We also learnt of the totem type painting of termite hollowed timber – sometimes whole tree stumps ( 5+ metres high)

as well as smaller branches for didgeridoos and more stick figures.

The Video display held us intrigued as we got mesmerised in the music and art of the termite mound,  butterflies, leaves,

termite ants and the music-makers dancing on the moving  on the mound .

The  large termite mound which tells the story was in the centre of a darkened room.

Digital termite mound, Yolngu Power exhibition AGNSW

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Digital termite mound, Yolngu Power exhibition AGNSW
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The last 2 visitors returned with the rest of the family. Parents & 2 young-ish ones.

 

 

 

Resistence in times like this by Colleen Keating

colleen Poetry , , , , , ,

Resistence

In times like this

JOY is an act of resistance     Loryn Brantz

Love, Faith, Education, Community  are also acts of resistance. 

“Have you ever noticed how certain words instantly  make you feel lighter, happier  or more inspired? 
And then there are words that drag you down, leave you heavy or even sabotage your energy .
So here’s the thing  . . . the words you speak (and even the ones you think) are shaping your reality every single day.” Sandy Forster

For many years  we had a poster up on the kitchen wall, that we read often reminding ourselves and our children the maxim.

Keep your thoughts positive
because your thoughts become your words.

Keep your words positive
because your words become your actions . 

 

Now today with so much negative actions bombarding our screens and  social media
 there is a further element needed and that is to positively RESIST .

In the blog Wildly Wealthy Women , Sandy Forster takes that further . She writes:

” Every word carries its own energitic signature.

Words like freedom , gratitude, joy  and abundance  feel expansive, light, and full of possibility.

When you soak your mind and energy field in words like these, you begin to broadcast to the Universe,

and most importantly to yourself, the kind of reality you want to create.  

And here is the magic part . . .  even a single word repeated intentionally, mindfully and repeated

with genuine feeling can shift your state in the moment . “

Exercise.

Pause

Close your eyes and say to yourself your chosen word .

Repeat it for about  17 seconds

Feel the word in your body .

Stay with it for a minute or so

Sense your vibration rising. . 

Practice this often. 

(Adapted from Essay by Sandy Foster.

www. WildWealthy.com)

Sandy very generously gives us the  list created with brain storming  on the alphabet,

No excuses there is a postive word for every day and every lettr of the alphabet..

Choose a few words from the list. make them your own and use the Exercise with them often.

 A–Z Manifestation Mantras

High vibration words to shift your energy so you can magnetize your dreams

A – Abundance, Alignment, Attraction, Appreciation 

B – Bliss, Brilliance, Balance, Boldness

C – Clarity, Confidence, Creativity, Courage

D – Delight, Divine, Destiny, Determination

E – Expansion, enlighten, Energy, Empowerment

 F – Freedom, Flow, Faith, Fulfilment

G – Gratitude, Growth, Grace, Generosity

H – Happiness, Harmony, Healing, Hope

I – Inspiration, Intuition, Imagination, Infinite 

J – Joy, Journey, Jubilation, Juicy

K – Kindness, Keen, Karma, Knowing,

L – Love, Light, Laughter, Limitless

M – Manifestation, Miracles, Magic, Momentum 

N – Nurture, Now, Nourishment, Newness

O – Oneness, Opportunity, Overflow, Opulence

 P – Prosperity, Peace, Power, Passion Pause

Q – Quantum, Quest, Quickening, Quality

R – Radiance, Riches, Resilience, Receptivity Rest

 S – Success, Serenity, Sacred, Synchronicity 

T – Transformation, Trust, Triumph, Thriving 

U – Universe, Unlimited, Unity, Unstoppable 

V – Vision, Vitality, Victory, Vibration

W – Wealth, Wonder, Worthiness, Wisdom

X – Xtraordinary, Xciting, Xuberant

Y – Yes, Youthful, Yearning, Yeilding

Z – Zest, Zeal,

Your word is your wand and you have the power to create magic in your life, one word at a time!

  www.WildlyWealthy.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ink Centenary Edition 2025 Society of Women Writers Inc by Colleen Keating

colleen Poetry, Poetry Awards , , , , ,

I am very honoured to have two poems in the INK Centenary Edition . It is the 4th Edition.  

And is a collection  of the winning poetry, non-fiction and short stories – entries in the SWW

writing competitions 2021 – 2024.

Thank you to the editor,  Susan Steggall  and congratulations to all the entries .

Great to be amongst  such wonderful names. 

The two poems of mine that are honoured in the SWW Poetry competition 

Petal by petal                        short listed  2022

From the dust of stars       short listed 2024

It has been a decade hiatus since the 3rd edition  of INK was published for  the 90th SWW 

INK 3  90th Anniversary Edition   a collection of the winning entries in SWW 2015 -2016 and am proud to say I had my poem,

In Search of Hildegard of Bingen included. ( The incentive for my book that followed )

The past two editions of INK 2015 and 2025   collections of the winning poetry, non-fiction, and short stories  in the SWW Writing Copetitions.

 

      

Feast Day for Hildegard of Bingen and our spring garden

colleen Poetry

TODAY

17th September:  Hildegard of Bingen’s feast day

Today I like she reminds us:

“There is the music of Heaven in all things.”

~ Hildegard of Bingen

Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) was a 12th century German abbess, visionary,
prophet, herbalist, and composer who defied the challenges of her time
with her deep connection to the wild and sacred natural world.

Hildegard regularly ate out of her garden and experienced it as both communion and sacrament.
Here are a couple of my favorite recipes that I create often with my common garden sage,
which was a favorite of Hildegard’s as well! I have a hunch that perhaps it was the garden sage
that provided Hildegard with some of her visions and esoteric understandings.

Adapted from  an on line retreat centre Waymarkers Seattle, Wa

Try this herbal tea at home;
savor how the flavor gives you
a taste for your place and a profound sense
of the Sacred’s particular presence.

Ingredients

  • 4-5 sage leaves harvested with gratitude from an organic plant
  • Water
  • Lemon
  • Honey—the more local the better!

Instructions

  • As you gather your 4-5 sage leaves, thank the Creator for the gift of this herb, and offer gratitude to the plant and surrounding nurturing environment.
  • Place the sage leaves into your teapot or makeshift tea bag of choice.
  • Pour a cup of boiling water over the leaves and then steep for five minutes.
  • To serve, pour into a teacup, using a fine mesh strainer as needed.
  • Tea may be enhanced with a squeeze of lemon and a spoonful of honey.

 

Our Garden

Go out into your garden and be healed. It is a blessing to be graced by a garden. Even if it is a tiny pocket, even if it is one tree like the power of the single tree in “A Tree grows in Brooklyn”

 These past few days I have been stepping out in our garden and am just amazed at the colour, the scent and sheer grace of  the beauty at every turn.  It is like an artist has been excessing with the paint brush, with brighter hues of colour,  from the grand eucalypts down to the minute painted dots inside the azalea flower.  Below some moments in our garden in this spring. 

 

       

 

 

 

         

 

 

Poem for the 17th September 1179

From Hildegard of Bingen:A poetic journey

A Circle Ends Where it Begins    

Night sounds.  Bird chatter calms
as they settle to roost. Frogs and crickets 
interrupted by the near-by cry of an owl.

Whispers call Hildegard.
The bee lured to the open armed flower.

A moon tucks nto her room, 
plays warm shadows 
on the faces gathered around her.
Hildegard sees a celestial choir
singing the Mass and office
with Guibert as their Priest.

The scent of roses fills the air.
She remembers the smell 
of Richardis’ perfumed hands
bringing her a flush of roses 
that initial year at Rupertsberg.  

In her dreams she sees a loving Jutta 
calling her to instruct Richardis 
on gathering plants for balms.
Remembers how they ran hand in hand 
into the forest 
curious about ferns, 
flowers, stones, seeds and berries.

She sees Volmar’s warm eyes.
Rides with him from Disibodenberg,
hears again his words, 
I could not let you go alone.

She sees a young girl
vigorous as a blossom in full bloom.
She runs in breathless,
Jutta,  O Jutta 
she calls, 
I see the light and beyond to the heavens.
I want to express myself so much.
I feel so blessed.

She watches the young girl pluck a feather 
from under her coarse homespun cape,

and look, a gift.
I know there are always feathers,
but this was special, as I watched it drift.
I felt a ‘Yes’ to life.
Ah, I am a feather on the breath of God.

Hildegard watches herself both hands in the air,
eyes to the heavens, turn and twirl a dance of light.

 

Our White Pebbles Spring Ginko Weekend

colleen Poetry

 

What a truly special two day with Pip Grffiin and Michael Keating. After we picked Pip up from Normanhurst we headed north for a wonderful day of beach and bush adventures.  We drove the scenic way through Shelley beach up to Crackneck Lookout where we took in the immense vista of ocean so vast,the horizon has a curved appearance. North we look up the beaches towards Norah Head and its lighthouse and beyond and south with a wide,wide ocean.

flouncing waves
the fragrance of wind 
in their wake

 Michael got the thermos out and we enjoyed a cuppa looking out at the amazing horizon line of blues and amidst the birds. My surprise was an outside devonshire tea with home-made scones, jam and fresh cream.

       

Refueled we set out on a bush walk to look for budding wildflowers and to search out the Flannel Flowers which we hoped were flowering. Grass trees and banksia were thriving , Wildflowers were still hesitating with the cold air and  persistent rain  holding them back.  We kept walking until we began to see the Flannel Flowers. Many were still only buds but some and enough for us to say’ wow’ , were flowering in all their glory. We enjoyed their velvety petals and ants and insects clambering on them,

     

 

solitary ant
angling across a petal
flannel flower

wayfaring
an ant ambles across
a flower petal

   

We slowly walked back and drove to Dolphin Court where we enjoyed the wonderful vista that we are so lucky to have access to. It was a sparkling day and the lake and mouth of the lake and then a wonderful performing ocean even with our resident seal lazing on a rock.

   

 

After we made a sandwich for lunch Pip and we  rested enjoying the view and wrote haiku,read poetry including Mary Oliver and then went for a beach walk.

It was 5 pm and the sun was heading west and so we decided to drive around to the lake to watch the sun drop into the Watigans. The setting sun was not as awesome in colour as sometimes but it did not disappoint, the egret arrived, the pelicans launged about some flosting on the lake, the black swans could be seen, the plovers could be heard.  Back home we had dinner and an early night

The next day we got up and came out to watch the dawn and the sun arrive . The cloud made it less spectacular but a dounbe whammy as it rose secondly over the thick cloud.  We wrote our haiku, feeling gratitude for our splendour vista and let the colours and sounds flow over us  

We drove to The White Pebbles Spring Haiku morning. After morning coffee we set out on our haiku walk, enjoying the Wisteria, azaelsa, bird song especially a cheeky willy wag tail, ducks and the apricity of the sun. Then we had a very affirming meeting all telling positive recent stories.Pip told of winning the the Mahler tickets and enjoying the concert of Mahler 4 and 5. Marilyn told of her 15 week holiday around Bowen and the North. Kent told how he and Deb went on a wonderful Whale Watching experience without seeing a whale. I told of my new book Ring the bells. And then we workshopped our haiku and enjoyed the learnings. We had a delicious lunch and a visit at the Art in the Gallery. and headed home dropping Pip at Hornsby. 

“Ginko” (吟行) in Japanese refers to a meditative walk
or poetic stroll, often undertaken by haiku poets to gather
inspiration and connect with nature.