I was made for Afternoons

all up early in the cool air ugg boots (can we even use that australian word now without fear of copyright infringement...) two content children with their cups of tea n toast n poetry books at the table... no intrusive box of noise in these hours one sleepy mother slowly stirring to the caffine scent which rouses her from her sleep the father (your humble diarist and correspondent) up early to sit in silence with the lord giving up all methods n trying too tired now as we rush to the paschal feast just the darkness and silence of the pre-dawn world a candle an old battered book of daily prayers creaky knees distractions - the daily papers lying from van to lawn earlier risers leaving in the dark clatter n rattle n shale of the autumnal winds but time well spent such are days as they begin this one better than many others sans demands sans stress sans too much of anything much which was just what we needed

the pascal mystery almost upon us saving of light complete weather turning colder eggs n buns n bilbys vying for our endless attention chocolate for your soul an edible saviour no doubt just around the corner children tired of schooling phase one holidays being booked money spent flowers pruned churches go into over drive and in the midst new life creeps into me the cold reinvigorates though the mid autumn leaves are falling and nights are getting longer my soul awakens from the numbing summer heat i need long hot coffees jackets n umbrellas magazines and rainy afternoons cold n rain n sleet bracing wind to know i am alive my little uns too need the winter months for restoral n healing i need the cold early hours for prayer n writing creativity n silence dreams of what could be and easter awakening

young prince sleeps till after dawn the poet still silent as I wake the young visitor arises after me sneaking around the house waiting to wake another he is the cousin the dark haired laughing man small and fast we have an uneasy truce between us a thin line of tolerance a ever present watchful eye aimed upon each other so returns to fitfully early waking playing with a battery powered candle which disappears with my footsteps on the floorboards but soon his young compnions have all joined him the morning passes in cafes n papers cleaning and music more coffee restfulness the clam clatter of blogging children's laughter then the dark haired boy returns home and we continue I wonder for him what we made of our charades

so me and the missus celebrate the big ten years together quite a mile stone these days some might say mill stone but not me... still love that woman all the stuff we've being through good n bad three miscarriages two beautiful children three houses three jobs two dogs new friends old friends days of poverty days of abundance agreement "creative" tension robust discussion love hope peace family but mostly just getting on with stuff day after day living in the details trying to see the bigger picture holding on to each other not running drinking wine trying to make some dreams come true living in the mystery of each other ' tis a rare gift love that lasts so i raise my glass to that woman breathe her scent hold her pale hands revel in the sound of her voice her music her art stare in disbelief at the calender the time passed into darkness and myth and am thankful

man gets out of bed sun is shining son is also awake and demanding things of man man gives into these requests in the search for some peace and quiet son now satisfied man sits at table and drinks hot brown milky liquid man begins to wake more fully daughter and friend now arise their quiet voices giggling down the hallway man whispers words of silence girls whisper back sounds of cooking man sighs and meanders meaningfully to kitchen smells of breakfast soon arrive children ensconced in bad sunday morning television man returns to his beverage pours and delivers same to wife who is slowly coming round next hour is blurry as man gets ready woman gets ready and leaves children get ready whilst trying to eat toast watch television fight and discuss something all simultaneously car ride to holy house children leave for their own stuff man breathes relievedly mass begins music OK homily good liturgy on track man feels better children return for sign of peace and cuddles home we go nice.

thanks for the comments dear freends it warms me ole heart to know that (a) someone reads this thing and (b) they actually care what is happening to me so in response... mike, great words of wisdom which i needed to hear with both ears, head and heart Antony, your monastic inspired friendship and prayers are more valuable than you know Coralie, love ya and know you want the best for me re -reading this reflection made me want to dwell a little more on some of what moving inside me for once in my life it seems like this is about truth and I don't say this lightly all the resonance i have with the monastic and liturgical traditions is useless if they are not truthful (to me? to us all? feeling a bit postmodern right now...) so my thinking is about truth where i truly see the spirit in both a personal and community sense using my heart and head all the while realizing that i use my own "frame" (thanks mike) or paradigm to see things through and this truth has become beyond w

so here's where the truth comes out many of you know that I was received into the catholic church nearly 5 years ago now at New Norcia Easter 2002 it was majestic and beautiful the right thing for me in all ways and then... finding a catholic home has been harder than i could have ever thought i love the monks the liturgy the silence the sacramental life the beauty of the worship a noble simplicity but local parishes give me the whoops good liturgy in Perth is hard to find... so i drifted back to my wife's parish whilst i couldn't stand the "worship" the new minister is a good guy accepted me for what i am and needed my help for ideas about the church year and structuring services and taize and all that is good and great and i felt needed and useful but... in that lies the rub. not finding what I need but just putting up with where they need me not being true to my confirmation beliefs especially eucharistically but settling for something else than what i believe

at a music feestival in the south of our fair state. nice place, nannup quiet, gourmet, organic, arty country loads a people but not packed like a fully residential festival CK's girls group played n sang well other acts a bit ho hummy actually everyone wants to be a tortured artist even if their smiling the words are all down n out n sad n bad n we just all listen to this stuff if not all depression then its jiggy jiggy irish romp a stomp or pipe bands n the like so i wandered a bit this afternoon looking at all da stuff the stall's and that and all the while me brain is goiung thousands a mile an hour thinking why couldn't i have a sound that is both up n reflective transcendent and dancy and then i thought well just go and do it so I guess i might actually do that pull some o me cronies n loonies together find our favourite tunes and try to play a sound which links to da other side to a deeper thing but still makes ya nod ya head a challenge but worth it so now