Category: poetry

Unbroken

RDP Sunday: Knit

A few months ago I spent a week in Bali. My first visit in forty years. I went overseas filled with trepidation. The long walks at airports being one of them. 

Yes, there were changes but there were many other things that remained unchanged. I loved how the Balinese people start their day with a gesture of prayer. They have little offerings made of leaves, flowers and incense as a symbol of gratitude at their front door or business. A lovely reminder how to start one’s day. For me, gratitude is a gesture of oneness, with whomever one acknowledges that to be, that knits yesterday, today and tomorrow, seamlessly.

I had some specific things I wanted to do while I was in Bali and the usual tourist activities were definitely not the plan. The thing I wanted to do most was to visit a healer. My driver took me deep into the heart of Ubud. Even he was unfamiliar with the roads and had to stop and ask for directions several times in small villages. We reached our destination. I sat at his feet. The man, a stranger to me. His first words to me were not to share anything about myself with him. He held my feet and looked deep into my eyes for several minutes. The intimacy of the moment took me by surprise. He then proceeded to tell me a few things about my life where I had come from and where he thought I would be in the future. Sceptical, I took it all in with a big pinch of salt. 

Returning to the hotel I found myself in a different space. I wanted to wander around the beautiful gardens and did this effortlessly. I saw things I wanted to see. I found peace in unexpected places and surprisingly, within me, too. I did not touch my laptop for a week and I cannot remember the last time I did that. But my camera which has been out of reach suddenly found me again. Was it the healer’s words? I’ll never know. I felt I was back, with stories to tell.

While walking next day I noticed this wall. I loved how the soft moss nestled along the lines gave an illusion of ‘mending’, these big rocks into a wall. It made me stop and examine nature’s art more closely. There was something analogous about this but what, was elusive. 

That night the urge to write again was strong, almost visceral. The wall, physical and metaphorical, reminded me of the Japanese art of kintsugi where broken pottery is repaired with gold; the transformation a new creation, made more beautiful, than the original. Not because of the gold, but because the eye is drawn to what was once imperfect and travels along each join, where the narrative is told. 

I wrote this in response

she ran her fingers through the pieces
sifted the broken

the chosen ones,
she placed in sequence
piece by piece
glued with gold

the bowl, emerged
whole
unbroken

by a dawn bird

There was a space within me that I wanted to share, when I started this blog some years ago. It is a space that is sacred to me. It is who I am. As vulnerable as it makes me, it is my authentic self. 

May the new year bring you good health and happiness. May you seek to find that sacred place where imperfection is art and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If you do, you may find this in people too.

As always

a dawn bird

I made the sun rise

Karri forest, Pemberton, Western Australia

This morning, I fished the sun
out of the darkest sky
reeled it up high
reeled it up high

birds silenced mid-song
flowers unfurled, paused, then bloomed

deep in karri country
the gum trees
whispered like the sea

debris crunched
under my feet

lifted on air, unaware
that perfumed cloud
returned me

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Wednesday – Rise

Landscape of life …

In response to Daily Prompt – Wednesday – Anticipate

Gascoyne region, Western Australia

In that moment when time stood still
I travelled the landscape of life
arriving at youth
where courage and dreams were intertwined
I stayed for a while
in that sanctuary
where life flowed seamlessly
in the child-woman in me
I walked across the water
reflective as glass effortlessly,
as if, on solid ground
I caught my breath
at the junction of the unexpected,
when truth, like lightening,
blazed light all around
the ride into womanhood
was filled with anticipation
for dreams, yet unfulfilled
and in that moment of stillness
my vision less bedazzled,
in a backward glance,
filled with trepidation, found,
the balance was in my favour
I had more than I had lost
youth may have been short and sweet
but to my delight,
flanked by dares
the road ahead is longer.

a dawn bird

I’m trying to get back to where I used to be and today seemed like a good day to start.

My wish for you is that you find the starting point, the beginning of anything, is exactly where you are.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Forest Sprite

In response to RDP -Tuesday – Moss


No roots,
growing free
tenacious, and strong
towering tree above
held firm,
by a velvet glove.

a dawn bird

I’ve always been attracted to moss when I’m out and about with my camera but I knew little about it until this word prompt. The prompt made me curious. What exactly is moss? I had to admit to myself all I knew was that I love the look of it, and nothing more.

It’s interesting to me there are so many things I take for granted or just feel are unimportant to know. Why clutter my mind is my excuse. I reminded myself while writing this post, how do we determine what is important or not, if we know nothing about it?

I learned today that moss signal there is water underneath (I sort of knew this, well, vaguely). It absorbs rain and nurtures the earth with nutrients. Moss has no roots and yet there is growth. Now in that little snippet of knowledge, was a message for me.

I know people who are like this. They are resilient like moss. They bloom, be it forest floor, or landscaped garden. They are delicate, a soft place to land, yet hold the earth steady, in their hand. Something for me to emulate.

This is my first post for 2022. I enter the year with an open heart and curious mind. My wish for you is that you experience kindness, strength, joy and gratitude.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird


Why?

As a child I gazed at the sky and asked why
why is the moon so generous to sea and sky,
and yet, like a dream, out of reach for me?

The Universe replied

That symbol of love is there
out of reach, for the child to see
like the moon,
she has the power of one, to blind the sun
she can dance on the sea
at Earth’s seam, beyond the shore
she can fade and disappear
and yet omnipresent,
like hope, she will appear
to the woman
who was once a child that asked why
but bravely followed a dimly lit path shown
under the mother-gaze of the moon
and found, when she dreamed,
she was never alone.

a dawn bird

Between the leaves

A feather drifted off
and nestled in debris
it once gave flight to tiny wings
kept a body warm, and spirit free
for now,
it sparkled in setting sun
this inanimate purity
held tight, for a fleeting moment in a storm
for me to contemplate the journey
how strong this fragile wisp
that once flew high above trees
surrender to wind shear,
yet hold its own
for me to see, this story.

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Saturday – Union

Standing still

There is something magical that happens when a new relationship begins. Each moment is treasured, reflected on, stored in memory, much like those moments in nature when time stands still, and forces you to do so too.

Last night I slept where you had been
the sheets still warm from memories
when you were gone, I woke
to the darkness of dawn
silent with shadows
but filled with birdsong
so I snuggled in deeper,
with the memories
of where you had once been.

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge – Begin

The Dreamers

I wandered around the garden
found his footsteps where he had stopped,
and looked back thoughtfully
wondering
would I like a flowering shrub, or a shady tree
when the last autumn leaf floated free
like me, at his feet
and I know
he would have smiled at the memory
as do I
in the garden, he is creating for me.

a dawn bird