eyes awake

mind alive

spirit free

tomorrows

rather than yesterdays

An unknown bird – I awake – my daughter

tends her son – a bird – a lullaby –

this world attune.

A little face

What was not

Is

Asleep

A mystery

Afternoon arrives

Before we know it

Catching us by surprise

Did we ever think

Each moment was

Forever

Gratefulness

Highlights time

Joy and

Kindness are

Lasting

Many things given

No time

Overthrows

Perhaps in its coming

Quiet and

Unnoticed afternoon’s

View

Wonderfully fills

Existence

And now, at the renewal of all things,

it’s joy that is their substance and expression

of their form. It is as life begins

in spontaneity and innocence.

The lamb, however, bears its wounds – the marks

of former things miraculously enduring

in the dawn. It is as if the spark

of life initiates again – mature,

complete this time, the fruit instead of seed.

The bones that you have crushed, restored, awake

to shouts of joy, amazed at their reprieve.

A broken heart is never a mistake,

the cities walls are fashioned from such stones,

the residence of joy, and joy alone.

Walking across a field surrounded

by breeze.

A sunny path between houses.

Across the road a line of trees,

each glittering with sunshine.

The long straight path to my church,

grey light, the noises of afternoon.

Blank night sky. No stars because of thin cloud cover.

Ahead the clouds are streaked. Pinky grey and black.

Behind the sky is more uniformly dark with a misty quality.

A gum tree looks delicate.

Another is a black silhouette, contained, but as if full of wind.

clouds

muted gum

blue line

An hour or two before the evening

the sun’s rays touched the tree,

dead, its last leaves pale on some branches,

a handful now, some little emblems

of light against the sky.

When I returned the orange light

was gone, clottered blood was

on its side, and sticks like

fingers pointing and

bark, like cast off clothes.