From Maxine
Late into night, nimble, sticky hands stroke my hair
Finger wisps tap my neck
and a head is nuzzled in close, carrying the smell of yesterday’s shampoo
Bloated belly presses in close
And sleep gently descends over heavy eyes.
And yet
Something is not quite right.
Bodies are roused
And before I think to turn my head, oceans of vomit flow through me, onto me,
drenching hair, drenching life, drenching bone
It is day two of Sesshin
I know what to do. I grab his white body close
A shower beckons;
Tender feet pitter-patter behind me
Naked bodies hosed down like hippos at the zoo
“I don’t know what to do in here,” a small voice says
What do I do in here?
What is it that we do?
Towels curl over long limbs and bed is once again waiting, present and unperturbed
As breath grows deeper, I feel my body tense.
My body, my body of steel, my body ready to fight
At daybreak I watch him devour a bowl of muesli
And I soften
Any myth of a sovereign body unsteady
His body,
my body,
not two,
not one,
but everything.
From Nadine
The Green Water Tank
From Lizzie
And here I am….
….Always here, standing silent….steady
In a garden bed up by the side gate
I am high enough, corrugated green, round and squat
Waiting……
Waiting for the autumn rains to bring me…FILL ME
With water
With pipes coming in and out of me in all directions
Nobody has much time to admire or even notice me
And what I can do with the water I carry.
In the winter I am full and overflowing
Sending water that is free from the skies
To the indoor house lu and the washing machine
Providing water for the garden
But now I am almost empty….
And sound hollow if you tap me
Few acknowledge the power of the water I contain
H-2-0, yes, water
Mostly disregarded in this part of the world
Unless there is drought or flooding
Then people suffer and take notice
But day to day…well water is very ordinary, it’s “just water” coming out of the tap
And goes uncelebrated as the VERY ELIXIR of life
The lady who frequents this garden is a case in point
She has tried to cover me up with tall green succulents
…to hide me, rather than CELEBRATE ME
With ……..well tinsel and gold paint and baubles, bright coloured balloons
And a flashing lit up sign like ‘Carrier of H-2-0, the Golden Elixir’
Ach well….I am comfortable enough with my humble standing
Here in the garden, embedded in the good earth….
and I’m not going anywhere
I’m staying put, this is just as it is
And I am content to be here
…Waiting for the rain
Din or Chime
Din or Chime
Bell or Bird
no divide
Song or Cry
you may choose
or hitch a ride
on wings’ breath
of a Butterfly
delicate white petals
float and bob
now a determined arrow
darting by
an unforced strength against
the push and shove of wind
it’s single aim to greet
a neighbor giddily
a waltz of 4 wings
in delirium short and free
joined unfathomably
a serenade to Breathing
a poem I wrote on the Kinhin moment
of laying on my back on the earth. ..
– Glenda-mai Morgan
Leaf
A leafy garden
where habit is to admire flowers
my gaze sliding over the leaves
But see. How varied and distinct are expressions of leaf,
each emerging from its own template
Spinach, amaranth, basil, leaves we eat
Curry leaves, thyme, mint
Do I see them before I eat them?
I stroke the scented leaves of the tea tree
She sticks a splinter in my hand
Tiny ace shaped leaves sneak from cracks
Succulent jellybean leaves unfold in spirals
Tough leaves in tight formation, hold grevillea flowers
Nasturtiums spread green platters for dew, sun, rain
Can a nasturtium speak ‘leaf’ to a grevillea?
Does the three-fold aquilegia recognise
cordyline pointed aspirations?
The wide tongues of the palm trees, do they
speak of affinity with the needles of the Norfolk Pines?
Do they recognise common leaf-ness in their distinctness?
From Ines
Hills Hoist
Seldom used Hills Hoist.
Stands straight & proud
Birds pull out the fibres on the old lines for their nests
Under its imaginary protection…
Roses red with new growth and flowers
A small Frangipani tree that was a cutting
And a small Frangipani cutting that was a tree
Fresh mint & parsley for Tabbouli
Portulacca flowers for the native bees
Cat grass for the Temple cats.
From Dave
