Trees

(reflection on Bass election result 2004)

The trees
Cry out for mercy

But in our greed
And shortsightedness
We choose
Not to hear

Economics
Has lost its meaning

Instead it curses
Those who curse
The ones
Who would save

The trees

Let The Blood Flow

Blood congeals
Deep in the recesses of the heart
When emotions are strangled
The knife cuts deeps

Dark, ugly red
As the colour disappears down the veins
Of mistrusted feelings
That will not heal

Yet blood flows
When ventricles are unplugged and
Carthasis allows expression
So toxins wash away

Bright crimson red
Colour of sacrifice and of life
Death and birth allow the blood
To flow again

If God would speak

If God would speak
would I listen anyway

If God would speak
- the mountains shout:
who do you think made us?
- the cliff faces echo:
we are not an accident

If God would speak
- as I fly at 22,000 feet
is God silent?
- does creativity
happen by choice?

If God would speak
decisions could be made

But God does speak
and I strain to hear

But God does speak
through friends and colleagues
and family
through grandeur and space
and intricate land patterns

But God does speak
through engineering
and flight
through cloud
and sun and sky

But God does speak
and I strain to hear

Be still my soul
and listen carefully

Be still my soul
and see the people
who are brought before you
and hear the birds
who sing their song

Be still my soul
and touch the flesh
of the woman you love
and smell the aroma
of fresh baked bread

Be still my soul
And listen carefully

If God would speak
But God does speak
Be still my soul

Would I listen anyway
I strain to hear
Listen carefully

Be still my soul

A Sad Country

(after the election 2004)

Is there no justice?
Is there no mercy?
Does anyone walk humbly?

Or have we fallen
for the lie:
My self-interest
is in your best interest

Our country
A sadder place
Than before

Can we regain
A conscience
Or do we need to crumble
Before we again become humble?

The Noises of Suburbia

Whining howl
Blade on stone
Like a hive of angry bees
The lawnmower cuts its swathe

* * * * * * * * * *

A dog barks
Disturbed by a stranger
Or disturbing a bird
Silently perusing the menu
In cut lawn & wet soil

* * * * * * * * * *

Cars scurry to & fro
Carrying people
On their hectic trails
Of business & socialisation

* * * * * * * * * *

The family of
New Holland Honeyeaters
Flits & sings
Supporting each other
In their zest for life

Be Still

“Discipline…is to leave room in our hearts where we can listen
to the Spirit of God in a life-changing way.”
Henri Nouwen, Mourning into Dancing, 43


Be still, my heart
Stop racing ahead
Of what is planned

Be empty, my heart
Clear out the clutter,
What seems to be real

Be open, my heart
To ideas outside
My own circuit

Be filled, my heart
With life changing thoughts
And hopes unknown

Be learning, my heart
Of dreams and visions
Coming from afar

Be listening, my heart
To the voice of God
Not often heard

Be still, my heart
Relax in the presence
Of the Life-Giver

Shazza

Shazz is loved by many
Many more than love
or consider me
Me – but Shazz connects

Connects by sitting silently
Silently, attentively, paw raised
Raised, ready to shake
ready to obey

Obey - what joy
Joy is simple
Simple love
do what my master wants

Acquainted

Some we know
Some we think we know
Some we call acquaintances

Few are close
Few may be closer than we think
Few we call friends

Many are near
Many circle around
Many would like to break in

Who is close
Who do we know
Who do we want to break in

Who do we call friends
Who to remain acquaintances
Who is there?

Speech (for Trinity and Renee)

Speech develops slowly and specially
Shapes form into words which are
Not necessarily the shape expected

But what can you expect when
I am only 20 months old? I
Do my best to get my mouth around

The words you throw at me daily. Some
Easy to mouth; others I look at you
Strangely because you seem to think

I am 20 years old rather than months.
But that’s OK, cause I know you want
To help me grow into this strange speaking

World of adults, and while I can say
Ma, even Oma, and certainly Shazza and have
Recently impressed you with my best

Attempts at hand and foot. I don’t know
How long it will take to get my tongue
Around G-R-U-M-P-S. I mean I love

The man, and enjoy his company, not to mention
His dog – Shazza! – but I fear it will take
Just a little while to say that awkward name.

Grief

Grief comes in so many forms
But do we recognise
the longings
the cravings
the loneliness

Grief stops us in our tracks
If it springs a surprise
stealing
halting
killing

Grief affects in different ways
And our reactions show
weeping
laughing
holding

Grief takes time to work through
Hugs, cards, words may help
the mourning
adjusting
moving on

But grief affects us differently
And so we adjust
in our own way
in our own time
in our own space

Belief

Belief sets free
Or does it entangle
In ropes too long
And entwined for
Freedom to exist?

Unbelief sets in
Among the strands
Of thoughts which
Tumble through my
Mind unconvincingly

Belief occurs only
After unbelief
Has been cornered
Dismantled, tied up
But am I free?

Needs

Felt needs
perceived needs
real needs

Do you really need
all those needs
or is it accurate
to say
you only want
some of them?

Wants, needs
confusion reigns
I want what I need
I need what I want
Modern society
encapsulated
in this confusion
should (a want or a need?)
bring us all
to our knees.

Worm Farms

Industrial little beavers
the worms that is
not the farms

Although the end product
suggests the farms
are very productive
because of the work of the worms

However,
industrial little beavers
is an interesting description.

I wonder if beavers
achieve as much as worms
considering a weight to work ratio?

One is tempted to think not
as the worm reproduces itself
endlessly munching its
hermaphrodite way
through the vegetable wastes
we so willingly feed it,
and its thousand companions

What a blessing!
hidden away,
avoiding the limelight
simply munching, mulching, mushing
turning waste into wonderland.

Rich dank soil
befitting
a true organic farm.

The End of the Day

Tiredness creeps in
Eyelids droop
Wanting to close
But knowing
Sleep is not available yet

The end of the day
Occurs typically
When one retires
Horizontally
Reclining on a bed

However it’s known
Other possibilities
Exist such as
In the pub
With one’s mates drinking

Or it may be that
Bathtime
For the kids
Dominates
Prior to relaxing

With the mate that counts
And is there
To rub your back
Gently massaging
So the end of the day

Is no longer a pain
But fades
Into slumberland
Gradually
Drifting into dreamtime

Feeling

Tiredness creeps in
Debilitates
If not dealt with

Time off restores
Or postpones
The energy levels

Meandering along
Below par
For too long a time

Philosophical conflict
Drains the soul
Contributing to

Lethargy and
Lack of interest
In many areas

But life is not done
Miraculously
At the beginning

Of a new day
Refreshed
One looks ahead

Contemplating the
Possibilities
Which not so long ago

Seemed out of reach
Crazily
Forgotten because

They had been sadly
Overpowered
By the burden of

The present moment
Generously
Reinvigorated again.

Challenges and changes

Take the L out of
Challenges
Twice removed
And a little e
And you have changes
In language but
Not in nature.



* * * * * * * * * *

Is it possible
For there to be
Changes without
Challenges?

By their very nature
Challenges bring
Change to whomever
Is challenged

O boring life
but without strife?
without change
without challenge

Dog & Ball

This is life
to chase
to catch
to wait
to jump
to return

There is no meaning
other than
running
panting
resting
sleeping
eating

This is life
wagging my tail
sleeping in the sun
eating my food
chasing the ball
pleasing my master

Justice

Justice exists
We still believe
But where
In this fair land?

In our minds or
In the tortured lives
Of those
Who have been banned

From society
That’s what we call it
Or from
Returning to threats

And worse, of course
In their lost homeland
Why think
Of this that sets

Neurons on edge
And remembers
The lost
And those unable

To escape their
Past history
The truth
Become a fable

Young People

Young people
energise
generalise
tantalise

Young people
frustrate
run late
captivate

Young people
sharing
caring
daring

Young people
raging
creating
changing

Young people
so bold
take hold
grow old

Storm Approaching

Storm approaching
Sky darkens dangerously
As grey then not quite black
Blankets the blue

Storm approaching
Trees suddenly shivering
As wind gathers strength slowly

Storm approaching
Birds take flight
As they attempt to outrun the force
Fast and furious

Storm approaching
Rain pelts and spatters
As precipitation lets loose
Dark and dank

Storm approaching
Noise volume increasing
As wind and rain and hail (elements from on high)
Descend destructively

Storm gone by
Strange quiet descends
As expectations build of
Another angry storm

Qualia

(with thanks to Antonio Damasio & Philip Yancey)

Simple sensory qualities!
Mental patterns giving sense
to entities.
Blue of the sky
Mellowness of the cello
Soft, eerie glow of
candles on a cathedral wall
Vibrating bass sounds
Fragrance of incense
Bracing fresh air
A lover’s sensual touch
Fresh, organic pears
Newly expressed feelings
Moving from
urgency to immediacy
a place of calm
the rhythms of eternity
Qualia abound
Qualia give pleasure
Qualia bring peace

God in our image

Policeman, poet,
painter, politician, polemical.
If I were God
he…may be a she
at least…a composite

Marking

Red ink on black ink
What do students think?

Concise, to the point
Sentences.
A delight to read.
Easy to understand.

As opposed
To

Rambling, virtually incoherent
Monologues
Which aren’t really
Because
They quote ad nauseam
Their favourite writer
Or worse still
Don’t quote
But
Simply mention that
So-and-so said this-and-that
And like it or not
I
Neither agree nor disagree
With him/her/them
But it makes my essay
Look better
Even if you don’t think so,
So there.

Ah, marking
A joy and an excruciating pain
Both – at the same time.

Pouring

Rain pelts down
Taking away
Our sense of
Communication

Gales blow tough
Without thought
Not ceasing
Desperation

Chill of fire
Bone to bone
Interrupts
Fascination

Morning dew
When we walk
Everywhere
Infiltration

What words

What words can be used
to describe
a picture?

What drawings can be used
to describe
a hug?

What touch can be used
to describe
an aroma?

What smell can be used
to describe
a sound?

What tunes can be used
to describe
a feeling?

What emotions can be used
to describe
a meal?

What tastes can be used
to concoct
a sentence?

Where are you?

“The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet”
Frederick Buechner


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
in a haze of ambition, or drivenness?


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
as you strive to meet commitments
propelled along by outside compulsions


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
in the murky waters of busyness?


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
in the hunger you can’t identify?


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
because your eyes are closed?


Where are you?
Do you know?
Or is it hidden
waiting to be revealed?


Where are you?
Do you know?

Unique Signature

In the folds of clouds
In the drops of rains
In the autumn leaves

In the ocean wave
In the glistening sun
In the cry of birds

In the restful sleep
In relaxing walks
In the burst of energy

In the genesis of ideas
And the development of same
In the fulfilment of a plan

In the fingerprint
In the zebra’s stripe
In the life just new

Individual signs
Fascinating glimpses
Unique signatures

Dreams

Dreams transform
Moving eyelids to
A sleepy yawn

Desire

There is no desire
That is not desire
For a better life
Or a better world

Comparisons

Comparisons are odious
But all the same
They allow me to survive
Not just in name

They allow me to survive
In fact, to be revived
With my reputation intact
And others deprived

With my reputation intact
Or so I think
Without even realising
It is on the blink

Without even realising
I destroy someone’s mind
Comparisons are odious
Even at the best of times

Windy Day

Thoughts blown here and there

Gusts – full blown
Tears thoughts away
Disintegrates ideas

* * *

Calm – before the storm
Respite in life
Reflection overflows

* * *

Gentle stirring
Helps assuage
Fears that build

* * *

Dappled white of cloud
Belts across the blue
Divides or unites

* * *

Humid air closes in
Reinforces
Cloistered thoughts

* * *

Wind blows through
Freshens thinking
So life goes on

Scribbly Gum

Bent and twisted
What history do you hide
Of suffering and pain
Yet inward pride?

Your branches are strong
They’ve learnt to endure
They show great strength
Beliefs made pure

Are you a message to us
That despite setback and strife
If we bend into the wind
We can find life?

Gnarled and knotted
Your branches may be
But new shoots are growing
At the end of your tree

No matter what happens
I hope we can learn
Pain and scars will produce
A desire to yearn

O God of the sky
And God of the earth
Thru’ nature and friends
Give us all new birth

Being Whole

May God himself, the God of Peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
1 Thess 5:23 (NIV)


How do we become whole except by getting away
by watching the sun set
observing the waves roll in
forgetting time
being aware of space
allowing ideas and thoughts to flow?

Being alone is stimulating, moves the creative juices,
the quiet allows the brain to unwind, the ideas to flow,
the senses to be stimulated, the darkness to envelop.
Great things are possible.

And yet, and yet

How do we become whole except by being involved
by sharing our ideas
bouncing off other folk
being regulated
and sitting with the tension?

Being together is challenging, yet growth producing,
allows for tangents to develop & be considered in all areas
the grinding of differing opinions
shapes intent and promotes development.

The whole God knows this and more
& loves us even when we choose one over the other
& so fragment ourselves
rather than remaining whole

Ordinary Miracles

The taste of a nectarine;
autumn leaves;
shapes of clouds;
the feeling of love;
dolphins frolicking;
a hug from a friend;
shape of a seashell;
the birth of a baby;
rippling muscles;
waves rolling in from the ocean;
the warmth of the sun;
galleries of pink galahs;
a home cooked meal;
fragrance of a rose;
refreshing rain;
river red gums;
twinkling stars;
an athlete at full stretch;
roses in bloom.

Enjoy an ordinary miracle today.

Cold Anger

Cold anger chills your soul
Don’t let it destroy you
Cold anger drives you away
Isolates
Ostracises
Deadens
Saddens
Relationships are choked
Enthusiasm wanes

Cold anger is the province
Of the older brother*
Righteous
Correct
Holy
Good
Celebration is wrong
When I have done good

Cold anger hurts too many
Scares them away
Frightens
Scolds
Quiet or loud
Cold anger kills your soul

To Be Holy Is To Be Real

I speak a word
It bounces back
or is absorbed into the
relationship.
I write a line
It is scrubbed out
or resonates with ideas
in my mind.
I observe a tree
The leaves move me
as they are moved
by the wind.
I hear the cry,
The whistle, the laugh,
and the birds remind me of
diversity.
I touch the wood,
dead, solid, firm
a purpose served.
And I realise the holy is to be found in the everyday.

To be holy is to be real.

Becoming Aware

Encapsulated
By the poles of the tent
Multi-coloured
The sunrise gives vent
To the glory of God

Invigorating
Is the fresh ocean breeze
Stimulating
The swaying of tall forest trees
To the glory of God

Resonating
In the echo of the valley
Tuneful songs
Of birds who dilly-dally
To the glory of God

Encompassing
The power of the waves
Intriguing
The shapes of the caves
To the glory of God

Fascinating
The flight of the bees
Mesmerising
Nature gives us the keys
To the glory of God