Selection of prose and poetry
Prepare to meander along the rivers of paradox
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Bird moments
Magpie; Barrawarn* (*in Woi-Wurrung language) Your only vague points of connection to them were the numerous swooping stories, by either their bird-selves or Collingwood supporters. Until one early morning, after a Dawn Service in January in St Kilda, this relationship changed. It became personal. Barrawarn Barrawarn Barrawarn, it said. Barrawarn Barrawarn Barrawarn, you said. Barrawarn
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Birds!
[What best describes your line of work?] Birds! That’s what I should have said! Why not? Because there are unspoken rules [bird-mind-cages?] that dictate what constitutes a suitable answer? Because we all need to sound very professional and serious? Because we are not supported to create our own stories? What good does that really do
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Imagination
Imagine Imagine colouring outside the lines Imagine shape shifting until the lines are no longer Imagine mark-making by way of connecting Imagine dissolving Imagine a river alive Imagine an ancestor you could be Imagine ideas matter collectively Imagine you’re more water than land Imagine you are flow Imagine following your edge Imagine tree is river
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In service to life
Something beautiful is unfolding… That was the strong gut feeling I sensed as I was enjoying reading Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass. What a treat this book is. An incredibly rich coming together of ideas, words and stories giving texture and grounding to concepts that often live separate lives. Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge and the
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Lichens spirit
A tale of lichens “In a world of scarcity, interconnection and mutual aid become critical for survival. So say the lichens.” Ever since I read these words in Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass, I could sense a tale of lichens wanting to emerge and share its natural wisdom with those who might receive it. Either
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Miracle
The miracle that life is Something sitting on the edge of the appreciation of life and grief of its loss A very fine line that only a funambulist could master the balance of Without falling on either side, of hope or gloom The balancing act might be the work that keeps us alive The dance
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Rivering
Following the edge of your river Following the edge of your river takes you to your knowing the edge becomes blurrier the edge becomes the river no edge you are the river following your inner river You find the edge of your understanding yet your knowing has no edge the edge only exists in your
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Move like water
Water chemistry At times, the scientist and artist parts of me collide into a strange poetic chemistry. When that happens, an unorthodox metaphor tends to pop into my head which the inner-critic mostly disregards. But, if the metaphor knocks on my mind-door again, and if I am in a state to open the door, I
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Soft star
Poetry mine, photo credit: Sam Rye.
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new forms
Playing with haiku-photo forms today. Photos are mine, taken in Tasmania, except for the beautiful Aotearoa skies, by Sam Rye.