heart stone

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Are you well happy creative 
are you challenged  
dealing with life’s absurdities frustrations rhythms
are your feet tapping to the music
your mouth speaking words of wisdom  
your heart laughing?

Rain claims this valley once again
thick grey mist blots out the hills
droplets poise briefly on leaves 
the chooks veer between good pickings and a dry verandah
leaving a calling card
squished into bare feet
a grimace a yell
bok bok bok they mutter.

frogs quiet this evening 
birds on last minutes of day business
the peach trees have yielded magnificent fruits
juicy and warm
yellow with that red heart stopping flesh around the stone.

a peach has a story
inside a stone surrounded with flesh
covered with skin woolly skin ready for a winter it will never see 
we laugh madly peach juice dripping running down our faces 
past our chins onto our bodies 
arms and legs bare to summers warm regard.

our heart like a stone
surrounded by flesh  
the stone a seed
our body moves to do hearts bidding  
the seed becomes a tree
actions have consequences
the tree delivers fruit
our bed is made and we lie in it. 

we are gardeners 
living on our allotments
creating community and culture.

what grows in your garden 
what blooms in your heart 
is kindness reverberating about you 
do you hear wonder on the breeze
the symphony of stars in your veins?

are you living in the world you want to live in
the world you want for our children’s children 
a world for platypus wombat and dolphin
a world in which ‘other’  is recognised
seen heard and cherished ?

What we plant today 
becomes our tomorrow .

sandra

the holy grail

summer solstice christmas and behold another year clicking over
spinning spinning
the wheel turning
always spinning the planets moving closer and then further away
making patterns forming relationships
fielding tensions conflicts harmony
Uranus met Saturn again
Venus goes retrograde
the globe keeps on turning
orbits charting their course, allegiances are made
on ground zero humans go about their business of learning
Being

whichever field of belief we operate out of
a way will be found to confirm that which we hold so dear
until one day in a single moment born of many moments
a question will arise
a question without answer that launches
the quest for the holy grail.

And the grail –  a cup chalice dish fountain blessing
a dance a mystery, a mythological device fanning human desires to understand
from where they came and to where they are going.

Looking within this forest yesterday for a drone that Kingston lost there were times I was swallowed up to my waist in undergrowth-  ferns grasses broken branches, thick and damp full of spider webs stumbling into wombat burrows and one hoped a snake was not under foot .
The drone was not found .

Had I been looking for purple flowers ferns mossy logs, had I been looking for patterns , at leaves or the intricate weave of bark or ripe wild raspberries then I could have perceived a holiness – the holy grail of mother earth. Instead I was looking for an aspect of AI, a technology designed to buzz and fly in crude imitation of bird flight , fun in the hands of an 11 year old and a weapon of destruction in the hands of our military.
Such is the dance of life where some create to destroy and others create in honour of all of life .

This summer of rain and storms aptly defined by the channel billed cuckoo aka stormbird that screeches over our heads and cheeky willie wagtail chittering and jiggling its tail at us offers green hope and fertility. Figs are swelling and ripening, butter beans zucchinis cucumbers are picked and potatoes freshly dug covered in warm mother earth nourishes our bellies.

And so it is time to farewell that which no longer serves us making a space for the unknown to reveal our true path; having set our course thru stars genealogies patterns
via kinship and kindness
we weave our tomorrow out of the fabric of oneness and intend a world that we wish our grandchildren’s grandchildren to inherit .

Blessing this new year to all Beings

x

Stretch into tomorrow

outside the kitchen door a few broken egg shells on the floor
I cup them in my hand 
look up at the mud nest hugging the wall 
baby swallows have emerged
parents zoom in and out in and out in and out.

welcome swallows 
back in July they turned up and began the renovation 
a bit early I thought
but one tiny dob of mud at a time they added to the nest wall.

life it’s a miracle 

these small soft shells held the future of beak eyes wings feathers
of migration nest building food gathering,
this small soft shell held a vulnerable being not much larger than a walnut 
made of soft bones and the promise of flight.

on ground level skinks are leaving their hidey holes and lying about in the Sun
chasing each other in a never ending flash of bronze scales .

baby wallabies and baby kangaroos bounce past gazing out from their pockets 
the tribe growing bigger since The Fire reduced their numbers.
trees ignited by that fire now densely packed coppices
push against gravity to reach the Sun, to seed and bear fruit.

spring bounces along with verve and commitment in The Forest.
and beyond that fear is welded in place
and coercion is perfectly justified.
one has to inquire
since when did sickness become a crime?

elderflower opens
no discrimination
giving all.

• 

…. … …. …
time to be attentive 
to remember who we are.
Rise and shine 
stretch into tomorrow with open heart and mind
make the world a brighter place
make it happen
for yourSelf.

Hari om

power and glory

let us hop in and play 
turn the tables into chairs the saucers into cups 
the flat into an ashram and a dream into reality.

find the off button and use it
pick up the broadcast of wind and stars
nod to the trees whispering 
lie on the ground
attend your breath 
feel the sun on bare flesh
the slide of water on skin
watch clouds
leaves change colour
notice bees fly 
hear birds singing.

• 

toot toot
climb aboard the earth train
pausing at all stations 
let go of the clock the week the timetable the news the feeds the lattes.

break the habit of thinking of worry of talking
pause
breathe again.
make the moment your ally
it will hold your hand
comfort you
always be there for you .

the moment of Presence never fails
never leaves you,
it is your power and glory 
your hope and redemption
your canvas and paintbrush 
ready to receive your mark 
of the blueprint of you as divine being.

loving kindness

The old story built on lies
forced down peoples throats
regurgitated and deified
swallowed and perpetrated
becomes ever more nasty.

australia today

The people are the problem
if only they would behave
if only they would tow the line
stay in their place
of servitude , lip service and compliance.

australia today

we The People serve
serve the Truth
The Light of The Divine
The Most Holy of Mysteries
that which animates our Breath
and whispers in our Heart.

Earth today

We may have been born slaves
but consciousness evolves
we hold the space for Truth to Shine
for Love to Embrace
for Light to Radiate.

Earth today

Take cover bullies
your run is over
lies crumble to chalk
under the spotlight
of The Sword of Truth.

• 

Aum on bedroom window

It is shameful
the misinformation lies bullying mandating censorship
the rubber bullets and pepper spray
the denial of liberty
in what has been referred to as a democracy.

When it is said it is for our own good
we know from past experience
from the lessons of history
that we are being lied to.

9 million died under the purge of witches-
wise women healers midwives mothers
tortured and exterminated
because malicious forces invented stories of devil worship.

And so we pray:

May all Beings be peaceful
May all Beings be happy
May all Beings be safe
May all Beings awaken to the light of their true nature
May all Beings be Free.

lock down lock up lock on

Sunday south east coast NSW Australia

first day of lockdown
I tell the magpies
spread the word
flocking together is banned
a tilt of the head
a quizzical look
throat opens and a ripple of pure sound pours forth.

I tell the bush rats they have to leave
we are only allowed five visitors or is it none?
hard to keep up with “The Rules”
too bad they answer
stealing another cake of my homemade soap from the washbasin.

gosh not much interest in the forest
no social distancing in the bottle brush
forget sanitiser
and masks look plain ridiculous on birds
so…….
a human only affair then.

the hills rivers clouds in the sky
continue Being
the raven flies across the valley
calling out
frogs at the dam chorus rain is coming
next door Warren and the tractor are busy.

how many realities are there?
what if there is no one size fits all?
what if it is a mosaic of brilliant orchestrated pieces
interconnected in a design we are unable to fathom?
what if this moment of breath is what we own?
And what if we are co-creating this lockdown drama?

what then?

• 

the peach blossom acknowledging spring is here.

hello

it has been a while has it not
since we last met up,
here we are – once again in a circle holding hands .
the faerie embassy is emerging from its winter snuggy unfurling into a windy spring.
welcome swallows are renovating a nest on the mud wall outside the kitchen
daffodils nod in brilliant yellows around the yard
tiny swollen blossom buds on the one surviving peach tree are almost fit to burst .
the grey shrike thrush sings
magpies strut about on the verandah
stand on the back of the rocking chair and carol
look in thru the glass door at us
begging in a very proud and aristocratic way.

the heart tenderness of spring
new life rising – poignant bitter sweet in a forest deep in recovery after the fire
the regeneration is fierce, weeds prolific and many dead trees to remind us of the blaze.

Poem

Death comes knocking at her door
unprepared innocence answers
a beloved companion does not return
grief surges without tidal restraint
and the day is no longer a friend.

Tragically Chloe guide dog for 8 years to daughter Elsie died
words cannot fill the hole
sadly Chloe chose to leave on Elsies birthday
it reminds how precious every moment we share with our beloveds is.

• 

  Exif_JPEG_420

code red humanity
code red
obviously we needed to hear it again
we needed it to be spelt out loud and clear
if ever there was a time to make some changes now is the hour.

Poem

Unseen

by the shining Sea we sit
in liquid silence of silver light
unseen the stars weave a quilt
our breath a stitch holds on tight.

by the shining Sea we pray
regret and suffering come to rest
yin and yang circle around
hearts remember all are blessed.

by the shining Sea we are
immersed within the golden mean
a Song emerges from the stars
and we who Sing remain unseen.

may the light of the divine guide us all

Sandra
xx

sailing the seven seas

months have tripped by and life has been unravelling stitch by stitch
only to be scooped up examined and mended where possible.
post fire life has taken on a different quality
and explanations are poor affairs when integration and trauma
wrestle for space.

• 

Here’s a tale ( but not all is told)
of a man with a mission
a dream realised
of bravery high drama and fortitude
of inspiration and love.

We had been waiting for hours
finally a sighting,
a white sail bobbing on a big swell
crossing the foaming horses galloping into Horseshoe bay.
a week since leaving Botany Bay
My beloved is almost home.
the wind threatening
will not allow hats scarves or the use of binoculars
hair stinging against cheeks.

Kingston wants to sit in the car
play with his ipod.
Why love?
its windy grandma.
heaven help me
look here comes grandad
he doesnt realise
having an adventure at 73
turning your world upside down
sailing an ocean
tackling your fears
giving up comforts
hang on a minute,
he has a teapot and cosy
chocolate cheese and paisley curtains
books and charts on bulging shelves
a feather pillow for sweet dreams.

Sailing past the heads
where is he going grandma?
just checking out the bar love
no room to get this wrong
not on this wild day.

Midsummer blood sport in Bermagui
a crowd on the cliff top
on a ferociously windy day
watching the trawlers, pleasure boats, fisherfolk
bump and wobble cross the bar,
ooohs and aaahhs chasing.

A tiny 24 foot blue boat
Telemachus
remember him
son of Penelope and Odysseus,
went looking for his dad
found him, they teamed up
and beheaded all of Mums suitors.

The ocean thrashing around
wind scudding and bold,
Telemachus is caught out on the turn
lurches and leans over,
Kingston squeals grabs me
they are designed to roll I say
heart in mouth.

come on love you can do it
you’re home love you can do it
some madwoman is screaming
oh gosh that was me.

All round us people are jabbering
phones clicking videos streaming
mad as a cut snake this bloke
why doesn’t he put his engine on?
has he got a phone?
goddess help me
sever their heads.

The pitching blue boat lines up the bar
hand fixed to tiller
white sail snapping in the wind.
Telemachus rises up
bounces falls rises again
catches a single moment of calm
and sails elegantly through the heads
into the harbour.
he nailed it grandma.
indeed he did.

Thunderous applause claps and cheers
from awed bystanders
puzzles the tired captain.

• 

all the way from Sydney to Bermagui
our hero and no suitors to behead.
January 25, 2021.

In choosing we Dream tomorrow

rising up like waves activists
press against the bastion
eroding sharp edges
flaking chipping away,
the wall remains sealed
holding tight
against the change agents.

anyone who has ever been part of a movement of protest
knows the drill,
hours days nights plans maps letters
bright ideas, fundraising
tears dramas court cases,
years flowing like the river
banks ever changing,
where once a pool now a sandbar
where once a gurgling rapid now a reedy swamp.

grey hairs threaten
exhaustion depletion anger
ptsd despair depression,
until …
run walk away give up fighting
become a baker or a plumber
retire take up gardening
drink a beer knit a blanket.

and still after all the blood sweat and tears 
the brilliant campaigns
the lock ons tree sits marches
meetings with politicians
bumper stickers
signs of hope
minor victories
changes in legislation,
the bastion remains.
greater technology deadlier weapons,
coveting more and more Earth
a seeming impenetrable nightmare of coercion and profit.

some activists change stories
slip sideways
stop pushing against
return, reduce the scale to one life
theirs
one choice……. theirs
one hope……. theirs
and from one breeds many.

the virus teaches us this
infection spreads
ever widening its circle of influence.

a smile thrown to a crowd returns
a story spoken around breakfast whispers over social media
a piece of art, a quilt, a poem,
teases and stretches
melding into cells and blood vessels
strengthening resolve
soliciting further inquiry
enabling contagious spontaneous bursts of action
for the benefit of…
for the Whole.

2021 begins
active aware creative open hope full 
in choosing we Dream Tomorrow.

one year on

one year ago this day we were in Merimbula visiting Zoe Kean and Frankie, Kingston was with us. Frankie was four then , Kingston nine and not feeling well – sore stomach – probably anxiety – living in a thick atmosphere of smoke and threat of fire over many weeks.
Zoe checked ‘fires near me’.com – the Badja fire was growing bigger – time for us to leave.
Back home we prepared – roof swept, gutters cleaned out with rags stuffed in the ends to hold water, pumps filled with petrol, hoses connected around the house spraying water over verandahs, sweeping tidying gathering  – on and on it went under thickening smoke with black embers dropping into existence above our heads.
Last summer was hot and dry so very different to this years cooler temperatures, heavy cloud cover, drizzly misty with exciting afternoon storms and green green green, dams full and rivers gurgling. The scarring of the fire on the ranges is still very evident , a bald look with a stubble of charred pencil trees standing lonely in once was forest.
We laid out clothes selecting wool long sleeves heavy soled boots, tried on our new beaut face masks made adjustments, checked the app repeatedly, listened to ABC radio, drank cups of tea, ate some dinner, gave everything a good soaking and went to bed. In the middle of the night a fierce Roaring woke us – on our bedroom verandah facing west we came to the realisation that we could hear the Fire.
Kinda like sitting in a 747 revving up on the tarmac maybe louder.
Hopped in the car and beetled out of our forest through Christa’s paddocks to vechiles, a ridge top with views east south west ,meeting our neighbour Keith Fish out for a look. The sky was lurid- oranges pinks yellows blacks – a sickening mix and swirl of colours that looked wrong maybe 25-30 km west of us- a monster blaze – huge flames visible. I don’t know what we discussed with Keith – good luck probably fingers xxx, back to bed and sleep.
Waking again around 4 am – another listen – yep still roaring though perhaps not as loud ,another drive out to vechiles – this time the sky a murky blanket , activity difficult to spot and for those brief moments I thought that the blaze has gone behind Wandella mountain away from us and our valley.
Wrong wrong wrong.
I checked fires near me.com saw the evacuation alert for Cobargo – rang the daughters – leave now. There had been no preparation for this , no inkling that a village could or would go up in flames. The baby was only 2 weeks old.  And so through fire and flames on either side of the road the two families along with hundreds of other people made their way to Bermagui. There beside the ocean under a malevolent sky and air so putrid with smoke that breathing was difficult they were befriended and given a place to stay. Kind souls poured out of their homes to help the refugees.
Even now we all experience a timeless disassociation where we cannot fit the events into a linear time frame, where our trauma racked minds and bodies slide off images and grasp uselessly at memories that float just out of reach.
Satisfied they were safe – little did we know the fire was already eating the village of Cobargo – we decided on a cuppa and toast rather than bed but before we could raise a cup John felt the pull to start the pump down at the dam and I masked up. By the time John returned hoses were squirting water onto our verandahs and fires were slowly creeping into our bush munching ferns grasses vines, whooshing up trunks of trees, crackling snapping rumbling.
A few times I crept down the track from the house to watch the fires journey  on the other side of the dam. There is a fascination with fire –it is a mystery, a wonder, an attraction, something impels us to move closer to it – we cannot grab it but within its flames are worlds dreams and visions that beckon some primal instinct within us. And yet when we get too close it becomes a menace a monster a flaming scary beast.
The shack near the dam caught alight-  windows shattering metal roof screaming – a motorbike in cold storage exploded – and so the fire moved inexorably closer and closer engulfing everything in its path. The house filled with smoke – I realised that if the fire didn’t get me asphyxiation might. I had heard the stories of oxygen being sucked out of the air ahead of the fire and how the very air can combust far in advance of flames and heard too of  firestorms that are like tornadoes twisting and uprooting trees cars buildings and flinging them for miles. We watered as the fire rained down upon our home ;embers flying, gardens and sheds burning, gas bottles exploding.
I had lit a candle on the altar, incense and prayed – ask and ye shall receive it is said and so it is and so it was that I was answered held and safe.  
I am not an island alone eking out a physical existence – there is a whole journey behind and ahead of me , lineages of ancestors and wisdom keepers, a universal web of connections to which I and You belong.  If it was my time to depart then I would not be writing this story – instead I lived to tell the tale again; with deep deep gratitude in my heart and body for still having this shelter, this beautiful mud brick castle I call home – this beautiful family of friends children grandchildren, this beautiful forest that burnt and lives regenerating generously with grasses vines flowers and plants I have never ever seen before.
I take the example of this forest and apply it to my life – its capacity to hold and to give, its courage and humility, its fearlessness and innate strength of Being,

One year on :
still dwelling in a choppy sea of emotions as we make our way , as we endeavour to return to lives forever changed by this experience. If there are lessons to be learned from this it is about how we care for each other and how we care for the earth. There is no separation – as we do to each other so we do to the Earth.
There has been enough cruelty and suffering. We know we can do better; that we are light as well as dark and bloom best under kindness and good will . This new year let us reflect on the light we see within each other on the care we take with each other and the love we share.

Namaste
Sandra
xx