Month: January 2020

No saviour beneath a star
am I, but her gift makes me a king
and so I kneel at the foot of grace
and my heart to her I bring.

They waited
beside the dry riverbed,
watched the gathering
of dark clouds
over the mountain range
and cupped their hands
in hope.

I have spent half of this evening
hunting the annoying buzz
of flies ploughing through
the sticky, humid, summer heat
of my living room;
with one last flick of the
kitchen tea towel,
I think at last the hunt is over
and sleep awaits.

The river swimming hole
Is deep and clear and
the sweat and grime of
a day’s labour
is lost in the first plunge
beneath its cool waters;
I shall return tomorrow
in need again of its
deep cleansing.

It came, a bank of white cloud
surfing the top of Burnett,
tipping over the top
and cascading down
the side of the mountain
until it was swallowed by the green bush
and was gone.

He rises with the dawn
and steals quietly across
the room to the chair;
there he sits and listens
for the whisper of light
as it makes its way
through the window.

And so I am content,
the 95 percent silence,
a welcome companion
as I move through the undergrowth,
clearing a way
with sickle in hand.

The dragon fly,
whirring its way
across the overgrown garden,
is oblivious to
the dust cloud
left by the passing car.

In the middle of the day
there is only the sound
of the occasional car
crunching the gravel
on the dirt road
running by my gate.

One by one the stars
appeared, hanging
quietly by that
invisible thread
above the arrival.
above the destination,
over the house
where we will
be reborn.