Tag: RDP

A Birthday Reflection

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I’ll be celebrating a significant birthday this month.  It seems to be giving me pause for many reasons.  I would love to write about it but the words just don’t seem to reflect how I’m feeling. Maybe I’ll write about it at a later date.  At times like this, I reach for the work of Anne Morrow Lindbergh.  I found this poem that seems to articulate how I feel.

Bare Tree
Already I have shed the leaves of youth,
stripped by the wind of time down to the truth
of winter branches. Linear and alone
I stand, a lens for lives beyond my own,
a frame through which another’s fire may glow,
a harp on which another’s passion, blow.

The pattern of my boughs, an open chart
spread on the sky, to others may impart
its leafless mysteries that I once prized,
before bare roots and branches equalized,
tendrils that tap the rain or twigs the sun
are all the same, shadow and substance one.
Now that my vulnerable leaves are cast aside,
there’s nothing left to shield, nothing to hide.

Blow through me, Life, pared down at last to bone,
so fragile and so fearless have I grown!

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (www.poemhunter.com)

Yes, “so fragile and so fearless have I grown” is a double edged sword that is increasingly a burden too heavy, sums it up for me today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

A grounded ‘bird’

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I woke at 5 am
sat through a storm
watching lightening scrawl the walls
spotlighting dark recesses
the traffic of thoughts,
at times, gridlocked
was louder than the thunder
vibrating along solid foundation
I thought I saw rain, maybe felt it too
but I was still inside
contained,
within a safe cocoon
I watched it trickle down the window pane
once removed
the beat was a rhythm
not upbeat, not even vaguely familiar
and I knew
there was no dance left in me
the dawn, was stronger than the storm
it broke through the muscled clouds
from the silence
I heard the familiar winged flight of waterbirds,
smaller birds, too
Oriented to home
I walked in a garden, freshened by rain
saw a feather and from the quill,
a message for me
birds rest in the darkest hour of the night
and at first light, may shed what they don’t need
to make the launch lighter
but despite the discard,
their wings are still wings
so they fly the charted course
the last stretch
in a flock, a pair, or alone
as nature intended.

a dawn bird

 

The morning after …

I saw you at the Sunday sesh
I knew I wasn’t wrong
The curve of your head
hair cropped short,
seamless,
with no start or end
the way you pulled the wallet free
from your back pocket
your sleeves rolled up uneven
so infuriatingly you
the aching familiarity
you glanced over,
while laughing with mates
our eyes met, unexpectedly
it subdued you for a moment
before you threw a careless grin
over your shoulder,
and I caught it

This morning, I wish I hadn’t
Now look at the pickle we’re in!

The (Dis)engagement

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He thought …
How sad is a kite
that cannot fly, when not connected
not part of two that dance in the breeze with it
no winds to lift it skywards
it is a piece of scrap that trails the ground
it brings no joy, no laughter, just frustration
where is the chase in this monstrosity, he fumed
so he stood at the shore
and alone,
tried to breathe life into it.

a dawn bird

When a day transforms …

Returning home later than I would have liked due to a delayed flight, I was tired when I got to bed.  Unusually tired.  I dared myself to reflect knowing when I am most vulnerable, I am brutally honest with myself.  It’s times like this I question the choices I’ve made in my personal life.  If left unchecked my thoughts take me to places I should not visit.  Having completed one too many trips this year, I had to face the truth.  I’m no spring chicken.  That was harsher reality I would liked to have faced and nothing to do with vanity.  It meant something had to change when I love all aspects of my working life, which, although strenuous, I have adopted the mind set, this is my calling.

I go to places where others don’t or can’t go but in a system of universal health care, I believe that equality is demonstrated in practice.  If people cannot come to me for whatever reason, and I’m able to go to them, I do.  Does it leave me at times, especially at night, exhausted?  For sure.  But when I wake, my spirit is rested, my body uncoils and I spring into action because I believe what I do is honoring the commitment I made years ago.

I’ve just returned from the Midwest.  We were busy with a full schedule.  I like my work there as I team up with someone I enjoy working with.  We often say how lucky we are to be doing the work we do and importantly, enjoy what we do.  Working with someone like this makes the load easier.

Catching the last plane out, I had more time on my hands so I planned to complete the endless pending reports but before I sat down to do this, I decided to go out and take some pictures.  I’m glad I did.DSCN8861
I see symbolism in the trees in Geraldton.  The trees in this region continue to grow despite experiencing a stiff breeze all the time.  And, when growth stops, the trees lean but never break, they are poised in silent dance with a challenging partner.  Aren’t we all?
DSCN8846I watched seagulls for a while and their beautiful glass eyes and their sleek profile and wondered if I am the only person who sees the beauty in them?
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The sea shimmered in the afternoon sun at St Georges Beach.  A young woman stepped out of the water, and as her car was parked next to mine, she started to talk to me.  She was from the other side of Australia and mentioned having grown up near a beach, she always seeks the water at least once a day.  She thought I was a tourist and I told her I was working that day but took time off to breathe.  “What’s there to see if you’re not in the water?” she asked me with youthful curiosity.  A water nymph!  A mermaid on land!  She towelled her hair vigorously, her question almost a dare that was softened with laughter.  I see seagulls, shimmering sea and leaning trees, I told her.  My face must have changed expression when I said this.  She looked around her and said, “oh yeah!” slowly like she had just noticed the landscape.  She told me she could see what I could see and that she could see photography was my ‘water’.  She also laughed and said, she would never look at a seagull the same way again after I had highlighted the beauty I see in them!  The encounter was just what I needed.  My prayer each time I set foot outdoors is to show me something beautiful that I can share with others.  Yesterday afternoon, my prayers were answered again.

This morning the home was silent and cool.  I made a list of things to do.  I’m not sure how it’s possible, but the list seemed longer than yesterday.  I went to the kitchen to get  coffee to rev up my day when I saw a gift given to me about two years ago had transformed.thumb_IMG_4640_1024.jpgThe hoya plant is beautiful.  I had one years ago that was a prolific bloomer and given to me as a cutting by an elderly lady who later passed on.  I treasured it but my elderly gardener did not know the sentiment and inadvertently destroyed it.  For some reason I never bought one again to replace it even though I love the blooms.  Then two years ago another lady gave me a cutting quite spontaneously from her garden.  Protected from my gardener, it has been sitting at the kitchen window, a bare stem with two leaves.  The hoya flowers bloom all year and are not seasonal.

This morning, on a cool autumn day, the gift bloomed and brought spring indoors.  I feel youthful, once more.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Thief!

I had been warned of the stealth
but I was unaware
the footfall would be silent
with an indelible footprint
that it would take up space
I had long forgotten was there
it would blaze a trail
brighter than a shooting star
and land within with the softest glow
that dazzled me
and when it left
it would empty that space
and take my light, too
who would have known
I, who am strong,
I, who was warned
I, who felt I had nothing to give, but did
I am not a victim,
far from it
what was taken, came from the best place
I now know I had a hidden treasure trove
that was invisible to me
when that thief, called love
crossed my path.

a dawn bird

 

The Love Letter

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I wrote a love letter in the sand
one I could never send
I started at the top of the page
and wrote until I reached the end
My letter was simple
it had no beginning
it had no end
It was continuous,
unadorned with grammar or punctuation
before I could turn the page
a gust of wind carried the letter beyond my reach
and scattered some of the words across the beach,
and the rest in the air
In the sandy haze
I found the letter,
gathered the words I wanted to say
and in the silence of the night
I continue to write
my love letter, to you
that I started earlier today.

a dawn bird

Runway Love (Sequel to Serendipity)

thumb_IMG_3054_1024.jpgIt wasn’t long before they met again
On the bridge that spanned to nowhere
Talking, side by side, as always
until the sun slipped into a new day elsewhere

But this dusk was different,
he cut through the banality of small talk with silence
She stayed with him for a while
Sensing his dilemma, she gave him the space he needed
“We don’t need to take this any further”, she said

His response was not unexpected
Yet it startled her
There was a sincerity in his words,
That spoke to the yearning between two,
As old as time itself
“We can’t be together,
I also know, you know this too”
The words were rehearsed
but were jettisoned out like new

They were both silent in the wake that followed
Until he spoke again
“I dream of your skin when I sleep”,
he paused to let the words sink in
“and when awake”
His eyes softened when he smiled
“Well, it had to be said”

As he turned her around to face him
She submitted to the yield
He bared the hidden skin,
Unlike her face and limbs, it was pale
and like the moon,
luminous in the darkest hour
At the contour of her shoulder
in the space between bone and breast
He inhaled the earth of her

Savouring every breath,
he lingered longer
satiating the gnawing skin hunger they felt
from the moment they met,

or maybe longer.

a dawn bird

 

 

 

 

 

In my cathedral

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I stood in rain and asked,
“why me?”
when the key would not unlock the door
I turned my back to retrace my steps
when I saw the calligraphy
in the tracery, of my cathedral
that framed the stained window
it was delicate, the hand worked it steady
the art withstood the fiercest storms
it was deliberate, you could see
the lines spoke so
it was there before my eyes
had I not been locked out,
I would not have seen it,
Alone, I took it in, selfishly
I read the message
and before the end
the child in me smiled
her soft voice rose above the storm
as she asked the question
with wonder,
and without entitlement,
“why not?”

a dawn bird

The Rain Watcher

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Far from home,
the air was warm
the clouds ominous
from within, I looked out
as rivulets poured
into a stream of consciousness
I ignored the thunder
the flash of light
I ignored shelter, mindfully
I sniffed the petrichor
wafting from the ground
it anchored me
at one with earth
I watched the rain
I’m not sure for how long
it may have been a minute
or an hour,
when the rain faded silently into memory
and that flash of light, now a beam
shone brightly
on the book of life
titled Carpe diem

a dawn bird

 

What are friends for

My twentysomething son is into the third year of his occupational therapy degree.  He recently completed a Mental Health first aid course at uni.  He was struck how important it is for people to know there’s someone there and particularly interested in making a difference in the area of men’s health.  Now that he has Kovu (the chocolate lab) he walks every day.  He lives close to university, so he walks there too.  He also works out at the gym.  I’m impressed.  The only exercise he ever did before was walk from computer to fridge and back.  His greeting is still, “what’s to eat?” as soon as he walks in the door.  I’m okay with that.

Like his father, he doesn’t drink at all, but his friends do.  He noticed between drinking, gaming and a sedentary IT work life, his friends were gaining weight.  Without commenting about their lifestyle, he started up a walking group for a few of his mates.  Much to his surprise they enjoyed the first walk with Kovu leading the way.  The group grew larger.  Other young men on the fringes of the group wanted to join in.  The young men now go to various walking trails and parks around the metro area.  He and his friends are looking trimmer.  Importantly, he tells me, they talk about all kinds of things when they are walking.  They stop and take photographs.  They stop and examine nature.   All this from a screen device fixated generation.  To say I’m dumbfounded is an understatement.

When my son was younger I would wear one of those step counters and try to complete my 10,000 steps a day.  He was spending too much time playing video games so I would pay him $1 for every kilometre he walked with me.  The kid nearly killed me!  He wanted me to exercise all the time.  I ended up putting a cap on the weekly earnings!

I was recently at a workshop where the presenter, an American academic, talked about the pros and cons of anti-depressants and the current thinking about the role of walking and exercise in the treatment of depression.  I’ll exercise caution about my thoughts on this but there is a side to me that shouts, “Yay! at last” this literature has found a place in the mainstream.

I don’t like company when I walk.  I prefer silence.  I often close my eyes and ‘walk’ through the south west big timber forests for just a few minutes.  It makes me tingle.  It may not be physical exercise but it is exercise for the mind.  We need that too.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

 

Pink, the colour of hope

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Today I stepped into a rabbit hole
falling head first with a silent scream
I landed in a world of chaos
and waded through a pool of hate
as I searched for meaning
in the mire of arrogant righteousness
in the darkest recess of a garden
where nothing else grew
I found a pink rosebud
so I offer this symbol of hope
in solidarity, from me to you.

Dedicated to our neighbours in New Zealand who have lost loved ones and their innocence.  May you live in peace and safety again.

a dawn bird