When a lizard gets stuck in a fence, They may think their time is done, That the quest they’ve been on for the morn, Has left their life’s scoreboard none…
Yet with a helping hand to adjust the fence, They’re soon out of their deathly bind, Despite pooping all over their supporter, Whom has been nothing short of kind…
Like this reptile in their miscalculated mishap, We can all get caught sometimes and need a hand, How we thank them for it however, Can have more to do with where we land…
For when we create something we craft to perfection, Follow all our plans ~ execute everything without misdirection, Yet still somehow get ‘stuck in the fence’ and not know how, We got into said predicament or the way to get out now…
And the longer we’re stuck frustrations start to grow and build, Despite our attempts to free ourselves through being strong willed, We need support and guidance to release us from our bind, Thus perceiving we can do it all alone ’tis purely an illusion of our mind.
So go forth now ~ commence planning your desired creations, Just remember to seek support when you reach the unknown, For gaining guidance from those whom know what you don’t, ’Tis abundantly better than being stuck in a fence that you by yourself have thrown.
Picture for this moment, you’re standing in a dried up creek, The ground is either cracked open or thick, silty, bull dust ’tis what lies at your feet… The surrounding flora and fauna is depleted, dying, wilted and weak, And if all that wasn’t horrific enough summer brings it’s blistering dry heat…
Yet an element of hope comes in a darkening sky over ones head, Winds start cooling ‘fore adjusting to bring perspectives of just a dust storm to fret, One can now see nothing other than the outback’s delightfully bold sand’s red, Then the sky opens up to deluge so in a blink everything’s soaking wet.
Within moments one notices this storm’s starting to ease from its peak, It’s severity settling in to just a steady intensity that seems rather sweet, After the destruction it’s already blown and washed in it’s streak, ’Tis now the style of rain some dream of - with a steady, heavy… beat.
Eventually the seraphic rain dissipates to clear skies of blue, The creek is now again flowing, though it may be rather debris strewn, Surrounding nature’s replenished though the much cooler weather plays it’s part in that too, All enjoying each moment of the waters refreshing, resounding tune.
Picture a moment ~ you’re gently swinging in a hammock chair, Hanging from the strong branch of a beautiful gumtree in bloom, The scent of which isn’t overpowering but surprisingly delicate, Creating a rather seraphic moment you wish would turn into a lackadaisical afternoon…
The breeze is gentle, but bold enough to blow debris from your aura thus easing your mind, There’s birds whom are quietly going about their day amongst the blossoms above, In a way thats causing a few ants to fall from the branches though unbothering, You cannot help but notice their determination as they venture back to that they love.
Thus as you sip a beverage and enjoy the lull of the supportive chair’s sway, Your thoughts start abandoning the stressing elements of your chaotic day, And venture to similar seraphic moments like this you’ve before experienced in this way, Allowing the feeling they bring to further align in your being so for longer they can stay…
For when we find ourselves in quiet moments of bliss rather seraphic, We can find ourselves longing to bring them into our lives all the more, Yet though we may desire this it would throw off life’s balance, Creating higher levels of chaos than what would otherwise be in store…
So knowing that this moment can be but a moment in your day, Beverage consumed you venture back into the delightful foray, Of tasks and other elements that bring balance to your personal lifestyle, Looking forward to tomorrows moment ~ beneath the gumtree a while…
If one were to venture into the outback upon a starlit night, One would find ‘tis alive with more than mosquitoes that bite, For the outback is more awake during a summers night than the day, As the earth cools a fragment and the wildlife all come out to play…
Kangaroo’s and other herbivores venture to roadsides for a mouthful of the greenest grass, Often with minimal acknowledgment of the vehicles that may pass, Whilst pigs root around annoying many a home bound dog, And nightlights attract Insects to the delight of both gecko and frog.
Rodents hop and scamper trying to find their own feast, Though they’re on the radar of cat, snake and owl at the least, Despite being cute the likes of the kultar can be a formidable little beast, When caught by an unknowing opponent who thinks their own hunger’s to be ceased.
The plants enjoy a touch of reprieve from the heat, After blistering sun rays have all day long on them beat, The cool of the moon and the bright twinkling stars, Providing their enchantment to all whom need venture out often in cars…
For though the outback ‘tis always a rather magical place, Upon a summers eve is certainly near always the case, When all whom hide from the heat of each scorching hot day, Come out into the night to do what they need ‘neath the stunning display of the milky way…
Picture a moment a huge wattle covered in bumblebee style blossoms, But it’s late in the season and the slightest bump or breeze makes them fall… The wind starts picking up creating a delightful blossom fuzz ‘snow’, Mesmerised you watch them float towards the ground as the wind plays, For this delicate dance ’tis one of natures more quintessential forays…
Ever gently one fluffy yellow segment floats onto your hand, ’Tis like holding the tiniest of delicate feathers you’ve ever seen, Created by the same force of nature that is known for destruction, Thus pondering this polarity you watch the breeze pick it up once again, And allow it to whisk away the debris you’re holding without strain.
This gentle wisp of breeze now continues its seraphic mission, Blowing segment by segment each blossom from the tree, And energetic element by element from your auras debris, Easing your mind of the grasp of the days stresses demolition, Allowing space for you to heal your soul - grounded with volition…
As the unseen weight of energetic debris lifts from your being, You note the new vibrance of the wattle seemingly restored, Though it may be just your perspective as you notice leaves before now ignored, Contemplating what of you can now be seen that’s imploring for healing, You venture from this moment with a much lighter feeling.
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~ A note for those wondering; no the picture is not wattle… ’tis mulga… one of the wattles outback ‘cousins’. 🙂
Imagine for this moment… You’re walking through a grove of trees, Whom are gently swaying in the breeze, Whilst a bird is sweetly chirping the song of its choice, All seems near too seraphic as you ponder whatever you please…
The sky though not clear isn’t concerning, Yet the trees seem to smell stronger than one expected, You walk on for this moment ’tis what you seem to be yearning, As you enjoy this time for your mind to find your soul reflected…
Thus as you’re engulfed in your thoughts and the scene of your walk, You’ve no way to notice the erratic raindrops upon the path, Or the birds falling silent as the trees seem a message to talk, That all should seek shelter or become prey to natures wrath…
As the sky begins to open up with a delightful sprinkling of rain, Each droplet so gently lands upon its mark as if designated, You stand still - letting each raindrop quench your soul of any pain, ‘Fore it starts washing away debris that blocks that which is fated…
Imagine for a moment; you’re standing on the veranda, Of a beautiful Queenslander Style home, Surrounded by an abundance of blue toned gum trees… The humidity of the day has made their eucalypt smell, Intensely fill the air ~ though not as bad as the not far away gidgees…
In a moment the sky swiftly darkens to shades off deep charcoal grey, Whilst the dust filled wind roars through the leaves, You take shelter in the most secure part of the house, As the sky seems to literally open up with heavy rain, You can’t see the trees, for this style of storm can only douse.
The raindrops landing on the roof are near deafening, Yet the distant lightning’s thunder still grumbles overhead, And one can still hear the ping of the hail when it starts, Thus one can only hope that amongst the wind and hail, That ‘tis only water to be what this downpour imparts…
Presently you notice the rain eases then stops, Near as abruptly as it began it’s now calm, Venturing out there's minimal debris but the yard’s inundated, Though this much water shall bring the rain lillys up, Thus for now bowing to mother natures prowess ’tis fated.
As a feather falls unto the earth after falling from so very high, It’s journeys far from over for a new one ’tis soon nigh… Whilst it may be carried on the breeze for a little while, Down a stream and to a child's hand in such a graceful style, One cannot help but wonder what it’s lifetime held before, All the sights the bird experienced creating the energetic stories it may have in store…
For a growing number now know our world is energetic, And that some have ways to discover the too often tragic, Stories of the world around us in various ways, Through items such as feathers should they to us their stories convey, Though elements at times are lost to translations art, Filtered through the perspective of those ’tis to impart…
For ’tis far from just the energetic stories of our earth that in this way are effected… Our perspectives are our entire life views being selectively projected, Into every moment we walk in this world and elements in our time beyond, For we leave fragments everywhere like breadcrumb notes of our life’s song! Like clues in a treasure hunt for those in the future to find, All the stories that make up our lives that we’ve left trailing behind.
Thus one need only a feather to uncover the story of a bird, Whom Soared above clouds ’n’ up before any other creature stirred; The leaf of a tree through it’s perspective up rather high; Or a pebble to unveil what it’s noted going on nearby… The key to it all is to just learn to listen and feel, Then take note of what you may not realise is actually real!
Imagine a moment; Your walking along an overgrown track, Red sandy dirt beneath your feet ~ warm morning sun caressing your back… The morning air ’tis a little bit sticky yet pleasant enough to breathe deeply with ease, As is a normal summers morn in the Outback, as the birdlife flit where they please…
Thus as you notice a flock of inch high wrens in a bush, Shades of blue and brown amongst the green, You can’t help but wonder ‘would they be like a young chicken to pat?’ As they look so soft, delicate and light as they hop through the branches and preen.
Next thing you know a trio of parrots zoom just o’er head, Enchanted by their multi green and yellow blur you follow, Though never leaving your path for the bush can be dangerous ’tis said, Yet you still watch these mostly green feathered beauties disappear into a tree hollow.
So as the grasses sway in the slightest of breeze with grace, You continue upon your chosen track with haste, For the morning now warms to the border of your comforts desire, Thus for now leaving the bush to itself ’tis what it shall of you now require…
As we venture this moment into the darkness of the earths crust, A tiny seed loaded with potential can be found - knowing of no light, For ’tis blissfully ignorant of what shall promptly be in store, When it breaks through the comfort of the ground with all its might…
Thus enjoy it’s moment in the comforting darkness, Drawing in energy from the soil like we do breath, ‘Till it feels as if it could overflow or burst, Yet takes another ‘breath’ despite little capacity left.
Then the tip of a shoot breaks through into the warm dirt, Slowly making it’s way venturing forth towards the cooler air, Whilst another is soon making its way towards earths core, Though which direction ’tis going… the seed is actually unaware.
Yet still it continues growing it’s way through the ground, Root tips weaving their way deeper into the earth, All the while being fueled by the abundant energy of the surrounding soil, That strengthens the deeper its connection becomes to nearth…
Thus whilst winding roots start securing it within the soil, As deep as it can extend physically then energetically beyond, It’s delicate shoot that’s venturing skyward breaks through the top crust, Unfurling its tiny new stem and leaf like a freshly formed frond.
Basking in the morning light with a dew drop coated leaf, Warming as the sun creeps slowly higher into the sky, Another leaf soon begins emerging from deep within, As it lackadaisically grows bit by bit a little more high…
Eventually our little seed - now a full grown plant, Reaches the point in which it starts to form many a bud, Soaking in the absorbent light from both moon and sun, Whilst still drawing sustenance to it’s core from the nights cool mud.
So ’tis with roots deeply connected towards our earths comforting core, And it’s leaves reaching high into the healing warm light of the sun, Delicately each aromatic petal of every bud unfolds to bloom, For as long as need be... ‘Till it’s time ’tis done...
Then comes the moment it’s petals shall wilt and leaves shall fall, As it seraphically returns to the earth it was born, And just like the last breath that left ones lungs, It has now aligned to the wind - hence gone.
The Poetic Life 2.0 