Reflecting on September 2024

 

A full spring equinox moon holds its perfection just for a moment and we clasp hands North and South equal day and night, equal sharing of light and dark in a beautiful albeit fickle world.  

out the window  
I look up at the spring moon 
and looking down 
think of my family 
ten thousand miles away

and with war raging in Ukraine, Sudan and the Middle East  spiralling out of control with no one power enough to stop tyrants of Netanhaou and Putin. as the  calls of the International Community  falls on the deaf ears of tyrants.

for the children
wherever their young eyes look
fear meets them
as fire flares from the heavens
as their earth is charred black

a Mariupol cry 
‘they have turned our town 
into a dead place’ 

On a personal level it has been a sad and heavy –laden week  and I will share the grief of my week and my way through it all.

My dear  friend Jan who lovingly and couragously married earlier this year,  has let me know her  husband,  David has passed with his decision that the fight was becoming too hard  and slowly over days letting go’. 

My special friend and publisher of my books, someone who believed in poetry and writing and helped me get my words out into the world  Stephen Matthews, choosing to take control through VAD and planning the day and time to “to go gently into that great light”. 

 My friend Decima falls and breaks her humerus and shoulder and is in rehab.

My close school friend  Shannie,  her BP goes wacko and she falls, fractures her pelvis and now in heart ward,   A dear important person in my life suffering in marriage troubles.

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old age ~
its story fills me with grief
and fear
nature, poetry, music
bring back a feeling of youth

 

 

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Some of my redeeming beautiful experiences this past month

Our poetry appreciation  U3A group.   Michael and I prepared and presented  a Margaret Atwood Appreciation morning.

White Pebbles Ginko Spring Walk

 

Ethel Turner 130th Celebration of the first publication of Seven Little Australians

 

Mahler 4th and  selections from Strauss including Morgan Opus.27.No. 4 SSO ConcertConcert

“Of his friend, who was to outlive him by more than three decades, Mahler said: “Strauss and I tunnel from opposite sides of the mountain. One day we shall meet.”

 

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Strauss  beautiful song

 

Nature Walk in the Kalkari Reserve part of the Bobbin Head National Park where where Michael and I wondered :

What if the trees could talk!

 

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An hour of Classic Chinese Poetry  put on by the Chines cultural

Centre

as part of the Nanping Tea Culture Week in Australia.

An hour of Classic Chinese Poetry  put on by the Chines cultural
as part of the Nanping Tea Culture Week in Australia.

 

The MCA  Contemporary Art Museum

The main exhibition i spent time with , was an installation  called

‘Once Again  . . .(Statues Never Dies)

It interested me because it looked at artifacts from Africa   And spoke of the Colonial pilfering and made me reflect on my New Guineas story. I always see something that carches my eye and the sculpture  below  touched my heart.

In another exhibition I loved a shell sculpture  made of the Sydney Opera House

Now this sculpture, Shellwork (Sydney Opera House)   has extra meaning.

it is created by Esme Timbery and encrusted with thousands of shells. It is one of the largest shellworked models made by Esme.  The subject The Opera House  sits at Tubowgule/Bennelong Point is known as a location of great significence to Aboriginal people. Known as a place of important cultural gatherings for the local Gadigal people , the site was once occupied by a giant shell midden. Middens are mounds formed from the residues of communial life, and in coastal areas they include many shells, remnants of an abundant food source. The midden was a record of ongoing occupation going back thousands of years, the lost form now echoed in Timberlys sheeled model of the UNESCO World Heritage listed Building.

 

Celebrating the Life of Robert Gray with the launch of his new book Bright Crockery Days at the Sydney State Library. 

This was organised by Mark Tredenik and many poets got up and read Robert’s poetry. Sadly Robert is no longer able to attend functions.

 

Botanical Garden amble

                                                                

Concert with David Helkgott at the Avoca Theatre.

My friend offered us the tickets because she was unable to attend and so we drove up the coast after lunch shared with the Northerleigh group. It was an uplifting afternoon.

 

 

 

DECEMBER 9: OUR MONTH TO BE AT PEACE WITH THE WORLD by Colleen Keating

Friday 9th DECEMBER

Day 9

The Swan

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

– Mary Oliver

How did I feel , in my heart, today as I met my dear friend and confidente and school friend from many decades back and as I received a text from another dear friend with her sharing of a tree she saw on her morning walk . . . its leaves in the light, breathtaking? 

And have I finally figured out what beauty is for ? 

I can only say I have come a little closer to those questions and as one poet says I am living into the answers. 

One thing I do know  Nature  for my friends and I is saviour . And with my friends we both agree from our deep spiritual awareness, Nature speaks to us   as the one who helps show us the way and nature is our chapel, church and cathedral.

Buildings where we once felt secure do nothing now for us compared to  the shape, colour, texture, smell, story, feel of  nature especially a tree.

And in this beauty  is peace. Peace for all the world??

Each of us cannot make that happen. We can only work towards it in the place where we stand.

We can only make it in the person we are and let it radiate out from there and hoping  there are enough of us that feel and act that way so that  it hits the tipping point  for peaceful ways, peaceful answers, peaceful solutions rather than always falling back into fighting and wars.  Peace can reign and life is happy for both sides of any conflict when resolutions are worked on. 

Paperbarks on my Lake Walk

speak in theirs tones of browns and cream and buff
their conversations stance all unique, feminine and real,
their rootedness, grounding and sense of place

reminding me to be present to every moment of the day 
their texture that encourage me to race home and write
and in the sound of their leaves rustling in the breeze

John Muir Trust Writing Competition  – Wild Inside

Thomas Keating-Jones wins the Bronze Medal in the John Muir Writing Competition – Wild Inside for his poem in the under 18 year old section

 

 

It speaks as a 9 year old  boy in lockdown. 

I think this tree is smiling 

I think this tree is smiling 

With the light of the sunshine warming up it’s tiny new green leaves 

I also feel like smiling 

as the sun washes away the darkness in our hearts 

I think that tree is smiling 

With happiness and joy, as I look through a window

where the cherry blossoms danced in the wind

Gone now 

Time is passing

I think my tree is smiling 

As he knows his role in the world 

I can feel it’s strong branches 

It can feel my tiny hands 

I am up in its canopy hidden from the lockdown world 

My view is special and just for me 

I think this tree is smiling 

Smiling straight at me

I feel like smiling

I feel free 

Thomas Keating-Jones  

9 years old

 May 30th 2020

John Muir Trust Writing Competition  – Wild Inside

Under-18s Poetry

Winner: Jane

Linda Cracknell said: “This writer has created a great form for their poem,

 including lovely rhythm which makes it excellent to read aloud, 

and it’s clever, showing the human is clearly part of the natural world.”

Silver: Eliza

Bronze: Thomas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

saving the jacaranda

It was on an autumn walk I learnt the old Jacaranda tree that I loved was under threat. It was in the way of new pipes. The pipes about 2 metres in diameter were being dug in and the gorgeous old Jacaranda was in the pathway. The next day there was an arborist directing the men down amongst the roots gently digging out the soil. The pipe was placed in underneath the roots. Then in November, 6 months on there it was, in full glory . . thanks to those who had worked to save it.

jacaranda_tree

saving the jacaranda

the line for the new concrete
drainage pipe
runs under the massive old jacaranda

meticulous to protect its roots
day after day the council men
ratty and mole in fluorescent yellow
dig a man-made warren
wide and deep

exposed roots
stretch and coil like dark bearded monsters
from a tenebrous underworld
smelling earthy airless damp

then overseen by an arborist
a crane lowers the pipe into place
and this private world is reclaimed

a year on
standing before its gnarled trunk
on a lilac path
i am corralled in its aura
of blossom-laden branches
and i rejoice with the breeze
in whispered mantras