I was made for Afternoons

drought dust despair dehydrating debilitating destructive cut off from water we wrinkle n die it is our 80% our life force rain from the heavens brings life floods destroy oceans bring both refreshment and peace death and despair water marks the moments of our life the waters of birth sustain us the water of life marks our initiation water is a constant companion some are sprinkled with water for healing others dive under fully to mark an event water provides a space to play a place to keep our bodies toned the swirling water of a winters ocean provide me with a strange longing an unanswered need water provides a means of transport we travel overseas we live from this water and now sadly the water is leaving us leaving our world through our own greed or reluctance to co operate with water it has become no longer sacred but a mere commodity we cannot make water for ourselves it is tied to our nature to our mother the earth but it is not too late to emerse ourselves in the wonder of wa...

so begins the elemental exploration . . . fire water earth air those from which we flail if we remove ourselves too far fire is inviting fire is dangerous fire warms and yet burns fire is a warning a death sentence you can be on it in it around it threatened trapped enticed mesmerized you can be fired fire-like firing on all cylinders under fire on all sides bush fires destroy down under a menace to one and all the easter fire brings life n hope candles are lit for remembrance to mark space create romance measure time fire from the stars fills our lives with mystery inspire a thousand poets n lovers fire provides n yet destorys feel the heat brothers n sisters!

between old n new now n zen today n tomorrow dream n the plan sleep n wake birth n death lie the crossing places new years day christmas easter birthdays all are crossing places the old world too before the christ became the norm had it places the mid summer mid winter feasts the equinox's and a million others places where the present moment is as tangible a breath where time seems to stop somehow i have always resonated with crossing places they seem deep within me somehow the feasts of holy mother church drag me in to mystery to that moment even after the initial childhood attractions christmas and easter still hold magic for me i seek ritual and spaces which draw the crossing places out speak out their glory enhance their mystery try not to define their wideness nor diminish their present-ness we hide from crossing places now drown their significance in alcohol or rowdy revelry commercialise their potential reduce their symbols to trinkets we refuse their power to speak we refus...

flickering light outside my door mid morning sun working its magic through the spring growth in here all is muted and calm quiet n cool nothing can be rushed here no darkness can creep its way nothing intrudes on the aural landscape provided by blessed st poddy wind howls heat burns ice melts solar flares threaten and bite but i am safe here in my cave the cave of life the cave of death do I stay here? do I merely recharge before the endless world beckons me forth again? is it a retreat or a re-enchantment a place of mystery or of dreary mediocrity electric light replaces solar blinds n curtains replace the moons velvet night fabric replaces the coolness of grass fans n ac's replace the breeze n ebb n flow of air i replenish my self with overprocessed gifts wrapped in brightly enticing advertising which will last forever no biodegradability for these babies! this sustenance has replaced living from the earth n my hands living through cycles n times living with the whole self ...

beaten by time beaten by my insides beaten, the days taking control before i can place my stamp no celebration this week a week of others endings end of school for some end of lifefor others felt ragged and raged at the end of the week nothing for it but sleep time love. More anon (P.S. Blogging world seems very quiet lately. I hope we are all doing ok . . .)

there is a velvet darkness which sometimes covers the land covers its people obscuring light radiance of any kind blinding all but the most faithful to the possibilities to the beauty to the majesty the richness of life darknesses forces hiding away in corners taking steps to contain lonliness n pain n dissatisfaction seeking refuge in that which only makes the darkness deeper n wider n all consuming some are called to speak the words of light to these to be beacons, if you will of illumination - (no matter how dimly they glow ) leading them out of the land of shadows their task becoming harder n more difficult their rejocing lighter their sadness broader their mission more urgent their faithfulness more steadfast their love more forgiving their hope ever present i return today journeys from other places worried about these and those n places i have been i hold to the future to the promise to the word to the light my beacon continues to turn i wait n hope

hush the music's playing hush the forest's swaying light the candle it will be enough hush hear the children playing hush time's escaping hush all that being said there's more to you than what they say we're more than words can't contain cannot pin point or conceal exactly who we are hush the music's playing hush the forest's swaying light the candle it will be enough hush hear the children playing hush time's escaping hush

rolling tumbling bubbling crashing waves pulling me under spiraling out of control breath expelled heart pounding hands reaching down under desperately grabbing searching pulling me upwards towards light towards air i had been playing cricket on holidays in a remote country town chasing the ball towards the river bank which dropped off suddenly and so did i dropping into the brown flowing water my young body unsure of the current flailed and railed against it its energy supplies soon exhausted i was fighting upwards i can't remember if i even had the ball i do remember being plucked out n laid on the grass panting a friends dad had removed me from my imminent watery grave jack was his name many years later i sought him for some advice on prayer ... this memory stayed with me for years surfaced in my dreams from time to time today i was reflecting that i hadn't had it for a while perhaps parental tiredness perhaps i remember my dreams less now perhaps the memory is healed perhap...

the last days have bought two types of healing in the best sense of putting back together of joining what was broken of restoring. the first - find by stealth an old friend who married another old friend and drive to their house excitement bouncing in your stomach with hope n anticipation. allow a joyous reunion to occur then watch the years melt away as children play wine is drunk meals shared memories recounted laughter roars walks n talks in the nights glow ice cream consumed tired children carried n kissed coffee sipped then fond good byes it is almost over too quick ... and you drive away warmed from reconnection thank you my friends thank you lets do it again soon! the second drive 132 kms north east through the country side take your usual crew the community some wine n food good vibes your children stay in 100 year old buildings play footy with ya son chat with your friends in the morning join the monks for worship the initiation of the youngest of your crew he of three months ...

whirlwind days passed me by like a dream now wednesday as far away to me now as man landing on the moon it was the day of the royal shew the once famous extravaganza of food n cattle n crops n competition now replaced by consumerism at its most extreme brightly coloured bags costing a fortune n containing nothing games promising much n then delivering only a momentary thrill rides to scare stimulate n frighten however it was a good day but it was a very tired street community who made their way home through the streets n on trains that afternoon the next day was the young princes day of birth n what a day!! parties balloons cakes friends parks games presents n champagne time does fly when you parent it sneaks around n suddenly you are parenting a six year old last year he was at whale world n fierce about protecting life this year he has light sabers new friends footballs n loads of attitude he is a comedian a carer usually well mannered loves music but won't sing when you ask him ...

i believe in you i believe in me i believe in my family my children who crucify n resurrect my sense of self transforming me i believe my partner my lover who sustains n travels with me i believe in my friends who know me and still care are hurt by me and still turn up put up n occasionally make me shut up thankyou i believe in a mystery which is deeper wider longer and more powerful than we will ever know i believe in love between children and parents between friends between the mystery and us i believe in god i believe in jesus (but not always his followers...) i believe in the spirit in all things i believe in silence being the way to understanding i believe buddha and krishna had wise things to say i believe in the rule of saint benedict i believe in ritual n rite i definitely believe in incense i believe in music as a healer a lover a force for good or evil a task master a mistress an addiction i believe in cooking as an art as a means of stimulating nourishing healing n freeing i...

tidying house monday sun shining clear spring skies an early morning walk cds of choice baking bread sorting boxes prayers to start the day reflection admonition dairy-free breakfast trying to find some inner space hiding from some inside demons buddhist writings morning pages kilbey -esque reflections listen to bede slowing down ah beginning!