On the path of life one ventures, Twisting, leaping, in a direction or three at once, And yet all three one day one may find, Are just one, long, intertwined path, Of illusionary elements that at their core, Are all of the exact same kind.
‘Tis the illusion that gains us this clarity, That we constantly appear to seek, Hilariously venturing through apparent smog, Evolving our brains ‘till we think we’ve found our way through, Thinking there’s some amazing destination, Only to find ourselves still sitting on the exact same log.
For though we’ve ventured, evolved, transpired, We’ve learned a lot, changed everything and grown tired, When we strip back it all, sit, and prepare our next step, Knowing of the illusion we’ve cleared that’s at our back, We can see now all the variants we’ve overcome, Have essentially returned us back to our core concept.
A concept that has been with us our whole lives, Whether we acknowledge it there or not, Those whom seek rest assured shall find theirs, Though it shan’t be what they think they’re looking for, When they look they may see only that which they can see, It shall not be revealed until the right moment rears…
Thus why one may seem lost in an illusion, Illusion surrounded thickly by fog, We can’t actually clear it while we’re ultimately inept, Even then ‘tis merely a moment of enlightenment, To guide our way forth from the moment, That we gain a rare opportunity to realise that which is… Our core concept.
Work. Most of us seem to be caught within it’s bind, Forever mundane though its flow may be until we’re ready to loose our mind, Though what if it were something we should consider only to quasi entail? Something our lives should be enhanced by not revolve around or fail?
Perhaps be there an element we’ve never acknowledged much before, Like something that’s been buried we should dare to explore, Yet whilst we venture forth shall we record all we implore? For most ‘rabbit holes’ can have variations galore!
Thus season vie season ‘till we’re fore wallowed and quanked, Our imaginations disappointed on the quantifiable progression of goals that are yet to be banked, Shall it quasi entail all we’re yet to have manifested? Surly hope enlightens us not to seem thoroughly bested.
In times our minds boggle and we’ve increased overwhelm, Some may suggest time be spent a moment within meditations realm, Though perhaps also a moment where reflection should take over one’s helm, May keep our lives in greater holistic balance aligning akin an elm.
Only then shall it be remotely wise to one’s mind, To venture onwards with velleity to lucubrate in kind, Remembering per-tenaciousness could divert efforts back to a bind, Where the only reprieve is thoughts of one’s life’s elements each quasi entail, all seraphically in balance, aligned.
Boots on ‘n’ out the door, For ‘tis winter outback once more! The safest season to head into the Aussie bush, To go camping, play and explore!
Post planning, supplies packed, checkin’s organised, Venturing through the bushland can be an adventure to open eyes, For autumn rains and cooler weather trigger winter’s abundance, Though sans knowledge or local guidance the bush can be a fool’s demise…
Yet when one’s off upon a bushwalk on a clear, cool afternoon, One can revel in wonders to be found all around, From wildlife equally enjoying the crisp winter air, To the rainbow of parrots, wrens and finches singing sweetly their own sound.
There’s fuzzy rain created moss covering’s beneath many a tree, Tall seed headed grasses wave upon the gentle breeze, Many are gum loaded with buds soon to flower, The energy of the bushland’s generally one to empower;
Then comes the element of discovering that which came before, With Animal tracks, that long forgotten now overgrown and near ancient trees galore, Thus exploring in the amazing Australian bushland is far from ever a bore, For one can never know exactly what each bushwalk has in store!
Ever have an amazing idea you long to bring to life? Yet haven’t known exactly how to make it actually so, I’ve been there many a time before myself as well, And I think you may just require what this poem has in stow…
As when we get amazing ideas popping into our thoughts, We may have elements we already know how to apply, But what of the other elements? Our knowledge and research skills can only take us so far, How do we navigate the ideas onward to the world beyond you and I?
For to the world in general ‘tis irrelevant if an idea be thine or thous, Nor if we’ve worked on it from scratch hours upon hours, If near not a soul can find it; it truly only exists for us alone, Which for some may shatter dreams through to their very bone…
Yet though we be much like a droplet in the oceans vast, A tiny leaf upon a massive, wise ancient tree with its roots steadfast, There’s always room for us and our creations in this world, We just need to learn how to cast it out into the sea successfully unfurled.
Now, though there’s always a multitude of ways for one to go about this, The way I find to be ideal for launching ideas from thoughts to creations so that the world can enjoy a squiz,
As the sun’s light seeps into the outback, The bushland’s as still as can be, For the nocturnal creatures have gone to bed, And the daytime array are just now waking to see…
Thus there’s a stillness in the dawn time, Where only those from dusk chirp and whir, For even the earliest bird’s still in their nest, Though Morning activities are starting to stir…
As a ray of sunshine finally finds its way, As does the first birds sweet chirpy song, Animals awaken with the warming light, With this day anew yet to have a wrong.
Soon starts the chorus of magpie’s warble, Unmistakable amongst the melodious array of a birdlife orchestra, Whilst emu’s bass is only heard by those nearby, And cockatoo’s shriek ‘tis much like a rookie fiddlers beta.
Before too long the dawn blends into morning, The birdlife settles into their day’s mundane, The dew drops dried and reptiles warmed, The sunkissed outback life ‘tis one uniquely within its own seraphic lane.
After a blistering outback summer near unbearable, The likes of Gidgee take their turn to bloom, Whilst animals and people all around enjoy the reprive, And campfires are planned beneath the April moon.
For soon shall be the time for camping trips, Bush Adventures and the like galore, As the Australian Outback comes back to life, When most of the reptiles take their turn to snore!
Gardeners and farmers sow the winters seeds, And pray their efforts bring forth that intended rather than abundant weeds, Native mammals take their turn to be more active, Whilst the colours of an autumnal outback have their moment to believe.
Thus from Gumtrees cooler shades of grey blue, To Gidgee’s bumble bee blossoms blooming on cue, Contrasting the dirt to seem a shade redder in hue, Though seraphically beautiful ‘tis parallel to springtimes slew.
The more gentle rains bring green grasses back, Bird life’s change from summer predators to winter finches seems near a hack, As new surprises have a tendency to never lack, For ‘tis that fun part of the year commencing when Australia cools its way into an Autumnal Outback!
A flick of light, a spark of warmth, A glowing brighter in each moment, A tender kiss, a touch so soft, A gentle mist of sonnet.
A whisper barely to be recognised upon the wind, Wind so soft ‘tis never felt upon the skin, A lovers hold, tender, and yet still so sweet, Low behold this adventure’s spun to be akin!
For what if the light were only internal, The spark of warmth merely a thought, A thought just kissing the brain softly into motion, So it may in turn sing silently uncaught.
Thus sending silent messages right throughout one’s body, That one can never feel physically happening, Yet one still obeys with unknown obsequiousness, To this elusive dance internally bewildering.
Thus why is it one just accepts what it is we see, Blindly ignoring alternative possibilities with glee, When in actuality all we’ve seen may be illusion, Leading our perspective away from chaos and confusion.
Perhaps the more we venture our minds towards expansion, The more enjoyment we manifest with greater enhancion, Which in turn would bring into our lives heavier fulfilment, Rather than the mundane sludge of the robotic grind like regiment.
Tìoraidh 2023! We’re glad to see you end! Though I am sure you’ve had some positive moments somewhere, More than your allocated mayhem did you send, You’ve blown people apart in more ways than can be counted, And rippled disasters globally like dominoes upon a slimy bend.
I know I’m not the only one that prays in their way for 2024, For all the pain and mayhem you, 2023 have contained, To swiftly find their way with you out the door, Though reality brings the fact that January 1st is just but a day, It does however bring a glimmer of possibility… of hope… that sweeter times may grace the floor.
And so we welcome forth 2024’s blank slate, Hoping Mercury’s retrograde mayhem be just the first thing to turn right, And that there be so many more things you shift towards green pastures gate, Showing lives around this exhausted planet towards reprieve, Before that which we’ve been enduring takes its toll making you too late.
‘Fore most of us can’t take much more, Of what we’ve been served in this past few years, Despite our evolution, our growth, our enlightenment to what we can do galore, We are still human thus have limits to what we can actually survive, Before we can no longer spread our wings to soar!
Thus please just bring forth 2024’s lineup already! Though may it please be a year to bring the past few into balance, Bringing prosperity and peace with a harmonious beat and a lighthearted melody, A whole year inspiring worldwide bliss, love and gratitude towards the lives we live, With a positive abundant flow for all to be equally heavy and steady.
🙂 HAVE A REJUVENATING NEW YEAR OF BLESSINGS EVERYONE!!
Christmas ’twas mere days away, As the Bushman sat present wrapping, Singing classic Christmas carols, To which his foot ’twas tapping.
When something through a window, Distracted his concentrating eye, Curiously the Bushman ventured closer, As his startled horse reared to the sky.
There on his verandah stood, Much to the Bushman’s surprise, A six foot plus white kangaroo, With piercing sky blue eyes.
Not far away ’twas another, Whose leg appeared to be injured, Then a third wearing a harness, Made the scene seem completely absurd!
Three snowy white kangaroos, The Bushman thought he was dreaming! ’Till he tripped over his poor dogs tail, Whom let out his version of surprised screaming.
Then up hopped a fourth kangaroo, To see what had caused all the matter, A fifth dragging a leather strap, Followed with a bit of a clatter.
The Bushman looked from roo to roo, Trying to figure it all out, When a large man in a big red suit, Came out of the bush giving a shout:
‘Ho, Ho, Hello there my friend. My aircraft’s crashed just through there, Most of my boomers got away okay, But could you help me get back in the air?’
The Bushman couldn’t believe his eye’s, Here was Santa asking for his help, ‘Certainly’ was all he could manage to say, Whilst his dog gave him an encouraging yelp.
Not too far off the Bushman’s homestead, Santa’s sleigh ’twas caught up in the top of a gumtree, A sixth kangaroo in a harness was dangling, Thus getting him down unscathed was the key.
The Bushman soon knew what to do, Dashed back home to get some supplies, Whilst a flock of birds in the trees overhead, Sang loudly their mocking song cries.
‘Twasn’t long ‘till the Bushman returned, With ropes and his trusty chestnut horse, They tied and swung them over nearby trees, And securely to the sleigh of course!
After lowering down the last kangaroo, They slowly lowered Santa’s sleigh, Tended all the kangaroo’s injuries, ‘Fore Santa went up upon his way.
Soon ’twas Christmas eve, And snuggled by the fireplace, The Bushman and his beloved lady, Were discussing Santa’s big worldwide race.
When from overhead they heard crystal clear: ‘HO HO HO HO HELLO! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU, BUSHMAN, THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP, IN MAKING DREAMS WORLD WIDE COME TRUE!’
The Bushman’s Lady sat watching in disbelief, As presents then appeared beneath their tree, Whilst sounds of sleigh bells rang through the sky, Filling the surrounding bushland with magic and glee.
Early one morning, The Bushman set out, To check on his grazing heard, Before heading off to the seaside, For his sister had sent urgent word.
That a pirate in his mighty ship, Was plundering the eastern coast, Waving his sword and issuing orders, Whilst munching on Vegemite toast.
He had stolen from all, be they rich or poor, Be it jewels, gems or a child's lolly pop, So The Bushman's sister had asked him, To come try to get the pirate to stop.
As The Bushman rode overland, He wondered how he could, Cease the evil pirate plundering, Everywhere his crew n he stood.
Within two days The Bushman arrived, At his sisters artsy beachside home, Where shell and driftwood art line walls, And the floor is sand covered stone.
'Twasn't long till The Bushman brave, Got to meet the nasty buccaneer, Who was causing all the trouble, 'N' creating so much fear.
He was swiping The Bushman's saddle bags, Right off of his chestnut horse, When The Bushman came out, words blazing, using all of his vocal force.
The Pirate, instead of fleeing the scene, Drew his sword advancing fast, The Bushman, determined to beat him, Grabbed a bamboo stick as he ran past.
A mighty battle had now begun, The evil pirate verse The Bushman brave, Bystanders wondering which may win, All hoping The Bushman wouldn't cave.
Clanging and banging filled the air, As courageous Bushman fought on, Defending the Pirates every move, Waiting for him to get it wrong.
To discover who wins this clash with sheer wit and how they resolve the pirates inconveniant mayhem please venture beyond the portal below!
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The Poetic Life 2.0 