There are times when you hear a quiet persistent voice prattling away to you.
You feel inadequate.
You feel not good enough .
You feel inferior to the group you stand or sit with.
You need to tell that voice to be gone.
If you can remember,
that every cell in your body is listening,
– listening to your negative voice, and listening to your denial of that.’
Then say to yourself, so that every cell in your body hears it‘cancel. ‘
Over time of picking up the negative voice and saying ‘cancel’your body will get the message that that voice is not accepted by you . And the voice will slowly dissipate.
EXERCISE
Place you right hand gentled on your throat
2. feel the breath in, out, three slow breaths
3. Be aware of being centred with each breath out
4. Place your right hand over your heart and say to yourself ,
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
after the deluge the track was heavy hard-going shoes muddied bogs to be side-stepped
yet there was grace in the morning walk
light was breaking throughunzipped clouds making the bush smile a thousand welcoming smiles dazzlingand bright eyed
a slow waltz shimmered through leaves vibrant red gums stood friendly sentinels mossy rocks verdantly green palms washed clean
i leant against the familiar trunk of a gumtree reassured by its sturdy cool presence a shadow crossed my path i looked up – a yellow-crested cockatoo
ferns caught my eyedripping with dew as tears
* * *
they are walking too today along coldcorridors on frozen earth they can’t hurry although it’s urgent– a matter of life and death
they are pressed no time for a last glance back their homes their precious things surrenderedfordesecration
the air cries silently for their wounded homeland they are slow burdened with babies children elders pets no comfort of saucepans tea pots books music
a shadow crosses their path they cower huddle whimper
* * *
she is walking now not like me she is walking for her life and the life of her child her track is short to safety but it ‘s not she sees a welcome sign just ahead but she doesn’t let us imagine people welcoming her with warm souphot bread reassured by soldiers like sentinels many who reach out to help
let someone kindease her burden let smiling eyes greet her tired and sad and give her shelter
when a shadow crosses her path let her and her child be safe and its noise not exacerbate her fear
her words i cannot decipher but i understand the language she is everywoman
This photo is not 1942. This photo is taken this week in Ukraine March 2022 with the colour taken out. Thank you to a brave war journalist who I will research to find the name.
Ukraine
“ . . man learns nothing from history” Hegel
“I think it better that at times like these we poets keep our mouths shut for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right “ W.B. Yeats from (‘On being asked for a war poem’ 1919)
can’t help being pessimistic but but. . .I cannot be silent in this sorrow of war
the enemy has risen its monstrous head again where human decency gives way to rage that leads to war that leads to rage
. . . and this too will end leaders will make deals shake hands some will put aside vicious propaganda and become allies
once again trenches filled in old war tanks disassembled in time they will build a cenotaph engrave the names of heroes not the womenold menchildren displaced and broken not victims who paid the price
as the English FTSE and Russian MOEX surge with share holder profits and each trumpets themselves winner
no-one gains land for there is nothing to gain it’s all an illusion that sabotages despots yet there is a lot to lose mostly humane values sadness in a mother’s eyes fear in a child’s heart hate and revengereplacing a teenager’s dreams the loss of human decency in the soldier.
meanwhile the sun anchors this tiny dot in the ocean of sky and its lens blinks another ‘lest we forget’
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?
” One cannot but be in awe when one contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries to merely comprehend a little of this mystery each day. Never lose a holy curiosity. – Albert Einstein
afternoon rain
dewdrops dazzle like
dangling fairy lights
rainbows
dew drops corralled
by sun beams
Tanka
morning Mozart plays
from a sleepy place I wake
with new energy
to face any curve ball
that is thrown my way
killing fields
the only sound aside from first wind rising
was the occasional brush of my footsteps
against soft cushion of earth
i looked out across the lake
the early dawn light
lay like a silver mirror
broken now and then
as several black cormorants
broke the surface and redived
in the far distance
the black swans grazed in sea grasses
and lone pelicans glided by
I watched the silver light of jumping fish
catch insects
then the pelican saw its opportunity
struck with violent grasp
grabbed the fish
its pouch beak
stretched and wriggling
while it shook its neck
and gulped the fish
I turned my attention to the paperbarks
and the symmetry
of the native miner’s wings
as it flies into a paperbark
and stand in shock
as it flew out
with the agonised death screech
of a cicada in its beak
is this place
that appears so tranquil
actually a killing field?
Merriment of Frogs after the Rain
As the sun comes up
i walked towards the stand of swamp paperbarks
a sound like a freight train racing
through a country town
filled the air
closer it became more individual
like hearing each individual carriage clanking past
and then individual rumbling croaks
yes the swamp was alive with frogs
all carousing and courting and
chatting
here was a living field
vibrant and alive
A Tree Kinship
over the curve of my thoughts
comes a sound
amidst a stand of Paperbarks
they were not only breathing together
they were conversing
my heart wells up to bursting
every tree has such character
twisted and curved
not a straight line anywhere
all seem to be aware of each other
a tree kinship
each with unique characters
that breathe life and meaning
and sanctity
the textured bark glistens with the
wash of the recent rain
in all the tones
of cream – coffee caramel tawny and wheat
desert ochre copper topaz and brown
A plaque on a seat at a lookout
How very lucky are we
to breathe salty air
and sit here by the sea
Life as we know it
changed this past week
yet the nankeen kestrel
hovered above us
just as before
Each day is beautiful and precious
even amidst these cloudy times
some days of heavy metallic sky
some days of grey straggling fog
with the horizon lost
nature tells us
it will turn for it has many sides
a stretched-out horizon
wider then our dreams
is still there
Today the clouds give us
feathers and angels and flying kites
all uplifting light and full of joy
so different to the metaphoric clouds
that hang thickly over us
pounding at our hearts
fogging our minds
suffogating our bodies
lapping waves
our footprints disappear
we do not look back
Our second day
out walking
nothing has changed
trees still stand as mystics
their whisperings
pointing the way
Just before first light we rose
the lunar moon
was due
we watched we waited
the hearth of a new day
burst firing the waves
the lunar moon
travelled into its tiger destiny
invisible
not even a whisper
or scintella of light
but one with the air
lunar moon
we search the darkness
on the horizon
light dawn sunrise
for a wild water tiger
i was surprised
by its gentle silent entry
like a dew drop on a rose
or the tear drop of blood
from the pierce of a thorn
60 years for its return
1962 the year I left
the cocoon of school
for the world
2022 is it the year I bow out
and return
to the cocoon of my world
in nature
lunar new year
the morning glory
are full of welcome
association
paperbark and purple
morning glory
Bird walk today
Can you see the two cormorants hanging out by the lake in the photo?
just hanging out
they know we are here
two pied cormorants
and
two cormorants
hanging out by the lake
social distancing
How many kookaburras
makes a coven
waiting for their prey
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
