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!
When we gain an idea we want to bring to the world, Letting it sit too long in our minds is the worst thing we can do, For too long and it shall begin to diminish much like a distant dream, Into the abyss that we all have in our minds that resembles thought stew…
Thus despite our urgency to create our idea’s into this world, We need first find a moment to fit them into our day, For we’ve all a million things to remember to do daily, And adding to our list in abundance can just send burnout our way.
Though we also need to act upon our ideas hastily, Or at least take the time to write down all their components within our mind, To reduce their likelihood of becoming an element of the thought stew, Lost to us possibly then forever to the universes time.
And yet our best ideas are always able to find a way to transpire, At times even keeping us up all night so they may come into reality, For when an idea fills our ‘passion meter’ to overflowing, We cannot not create it through to its totality!
As the wind blows through the gum leaves, The ants creep leaf to leaf through lower bushes, Grandmother sun bears down making the ground Too hot to walk upon and yet late afternoon there’s near not a sound…
For even the birdlife retreats in the summer, Seeking treetops cooler or some other water source, As the heat of an outback summers day can be unbearable, And ’tis abundantly worse before rain finds its course!
And yet there's an element of magic in the Aussie Outback, One wont find similar to any place else, Though hard to define ’tis nothing short of enchanting, Guaranteed to make you question if you’re even standing!
For when the breeze wisps the bushland into an oceanic chorus, And the red sand beneath ones feet ’tis hot as red coals, The wildlife looks hugable though it’s often dangerous, As one’s mind blunders things into different roles…
Plants are delicate in design and robust and sturdy, Whilst the colourful birdlife fill the air with song, If one’s to close their eyes and just feel and listen, ’Tis nothing short of magic imagining where each element may belong…
The Australian Outback though it be known, For vast red sand dunes and blue grey gumtrees... Can near be a place of horror stories once the weather is warm, Rather than the place tourists enjoy in wintertime's ease...
For many a heatwave that shan’t ease at night, ’Tis only eased slightly by the erratic wild storms delight, Whilst reptiles move into houses that are kept cooler, and the spiders appear where you least expect them... Creating the perfect place for real life nightmares to stem!
The wildlife ~ though cute ~ lines the roads all the more, For the slightest of moisture dusk through dawn has in store, Destroying both themselves and one’s car should they happen to startle, Creating yet another not so delightful debacle...
For to drive in the day though the blistering heat, As the bitumen melts is equally unsweet.. The Car’s hot enough to burn you when touched, And if the air conditioner goes - pray you survive, The heat inside is worse to endure and make it alive!
Thus is an element of the woes of the Outback in summertime, When thoughts of cold beers and water styled fun, Feature in thoughts this third of the year for most whom dwell, Knowing despite the blistering mayhem ‘tis a place truly second to none!
In the abyss of the nighttime post midnight ‘till dawn, One may think near not a thing may go on… Yet the bushland ’tis oft’ more alive night than day, For in the cool of the night in summer ’tis easier to play…
The old farm dogs may bark at the roo’s by the fence, Making those unadapted a touch on edge or tense, Owl’s are obviously patiently awaiting their prey, Which slithers or scampers wherever be it’s way.
Yet there always shall be times in the dark of the moon, When thing’s do happen to seem rather out of tune, As we perceive the nighttime to be a style of dark abyss, Fueling our minds into imagining something amiss…
Despite our knowing it to be far from the truth, Most stemming from fairy tale stories in our youth, We see night too often as a dark abyss to fear, Rather than just a time with less light to hold equally dear.
A cooler time where joey’s play and echidna’s snuffle, Snakes slither and wild pigs create a kerfuffle… Kultars and gecko’s explore to feast on their favorite insects, Whilst frogs and crickets flex their tune of dialects…
’Tis actually a sweeter time in the Outback vast, For the blistering heat of the day has finally passed, Allowing one to enjoy the serenity found in the abyss, Sans the chaos of the day, to replenish in the nights bliss.
Imagine for a moment, Your at a cozy quiet camp site, Deep in the Aussie bushland, Upon a damp, densely foggy morn…
Where the crisp morning air is what fills your lungs, As you venture out of your cozy warm swag into the fog, Taking a moment to revive the campfires coals, 'Fore finding a spot to sit upon a sturdy bark free log…
The fire soon enough starts warming the air in reach, And provides the heat needed for your morning warm beverage of choice, As you sip slowly birdsong breaks through the bush lands silence, ‘Tis nothing short of seraphic to hear their orchestral voice.
Then as the performance seems to reach near its peak, A rouge ray of sunshine breaks through the fog, Warming your soul from where it first touches, As cell by cell it starts dissolving any remaining dull monologue.
Effervescent style this warmth from the sun’s first rays, Ripples throughout your being then outward, Slowly driving back the surrounding fog cover, ‘Till there’s no chance of it returning today ‘till night-covers bombard…
Thus in the soul healing warmth of the early morn’s sun, One sits sipping seraphically one’s warm beverage, Absorbing the bliss of one’s bushland surrounds, Knowing for this day ‘tis now an abundance of bliss that has leverage…
When mother nature throws us her extremes, Most flail, hide, or at least follow the advice of guidance… Whilst she uproots/scorches/deluges all we know around us, In her uncontrollable, destructive ~ though beautiful dance.
Yet amongst us lies a minority of often unseen hero’s, Those whom champion their determined grit above the rest, Always there to bolster those of us left vulnerable, In the face of Mother Natures more destructive types of quest.
They’re the one’s always to be found within the forefront, Helping others when extreme elements come into play, The backbone of most voluntary emergency services, A vital part of our communities often overlooked in a way…
Thus let us all take a moment to acknowledge these everyday warriors, Whom would be by our side should we ever be of their need, Raring to their opportunity to lend their helping hand, Be it by placing sandbags, clearing debris or organising a feed…
For in the face of Mother Nature we’re just like every other species, Despite our ability to create so much polar to her natural, Yet with those around ready to help all within in her path, That truly can make us be perceived as just that little more impactful.
Imagine a moment; You’re in the darkness of the earths crust, A seed - knowing of no light, Blissfully ignorant of what shall be in store, When one breaks through the ground with all one’s might…
Thus enjoy this moment in the comforting darkness, Drawing in energy from the soil like we do breath, ‘Till it feels as if one could overflow or burst, Yet take another ‘breath’ despite little capacity left.
Then the tip of a shoot breaks through one’s shell 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… a seed may actually be 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…
Imagine in this moment; you’re standing in the outback, With it’s iconic red sandy dirt beneath your feet, ‘Tis a warm dry afternoon in the springtime, And thus the scent of flowers is upon a light breeze, tangy ‘n’ sweet…
As you listen to the breeze dance amongst the gum leaves, Its ocean like melody lulls you into its sway, Into a more seraphic style of perspective, Allowing the breeze to for now blow all your troubles away….
Thus you’ve new space to taste the tangy scents upon the breeze, Which vary depending on the surrounding flora, Filling ones lungs slowly with abundant replenishment, Creating space to adjust for what lies soon in store!
As the wind dies down and the leaves calm, One listens to the birdsong tune that surrounds, ‘Tis so seraphic a picturesque scene one experiences here, With blue grey trees sheltering wildlife, Tall dried grasses, colourful birds, And the red dirt that abounds…
And then from seemingly nowhere the sand moves over ‘n’ around your feet, Moving whisplike a bit for a moment enchanting your attention, ‘Fore it starts swirling around at your ankles, Triggering an experience that takes a bit of comprehension…
Slowly this spiral increases in it’s velocity, ‘Tis not uncomfortable but the sandy element gritty, Growing its speed and height to one’s knees, Picking up, blowing away, and adjusting all that it please…
Soon one discovers they’re hip deep in a whirlpool, Consisting mostly of dust that sparkles in sunlight and wind just a touch cool, As your legs take on a new sensation before now unknown, ‘Fore further into this whirlwind one ‘tis ‘bout to be thrown.
Wind now begins to whip veraciously around your abdomen, Inching in height with each slow breath you take, The sensations across ones back remind one of that, Which an experienced masseuse may create…
Reaching chest height it soon creates an interesting illusion, Of treading water on a secluded private beach, Sensations of being sucked down within the whirlwind, Are not so overly far from ones imaginations reach…
Though reality ’tis completely the opposite, One is standing securely upon ones feet, The earth below supporting ones every move, In a way no being has the ability to ever beat.
Yet the whirlwind continues above ones shoulder height, Around one’s throat ~ creating an interesting insight, Sensations at every point neglected are now trying to fight, To gain your attention for going unnoticed to fester be their plight…
One’s line of sight fast becomes a blur of orange/red sparkle, Enlightening one to contemplate this moment’s debacle, Weightlessness brings it’s own variation of calming element particle, Whilst the whirlwind invigorates your every hairs follicle…
The whirlwind now swirls around one’s entire being, To thick to see through to anything on the other side, Bringing thoughts of unknown consequences to one’s mind, ‘Fore one truly has no idea the outcome to result from this ride…
Until the wind drops as through it never began, All around one’s position seems as it was before, Was the whirlwind just an illusion of some creators divine plan? Or something greater one need further explore?
When life pushes one’s goals aside, One may think they’ve fallen from their ride, Yet with the right guidance all’s far from lost, For creatin’ one’s best life can be embossed…
From being one who’s an over stressed night owl, Whom bounces from task to task with a scowl, One can metamorphose into a morning delight, With a touch of work and some resonant guiding insight.
Though the journey creatin’ ones best life’s, Not always artistic like prose, It's bound to have some moments or weeks, With thorns in ones plans like the branch of a rose…
Yet when we take a moment to examine our restricting perspectives of old, Release them and follow the guidance we seek out bestowed, ’Tis truly possible to redesign/evolve/recreate one’s life's mould, In a way once in place enhances one’s quest to gold…
And once the habits become natural, Good days shall be what flows, ’Tis nothing short of magic seeing, What from a month of challenging work grows…
For if one concretes element’s into one’s day, They can continue with ease, Regardless of what may try to shake things up… Thus supporting one’s ability to stay in a state of flow, For as long as one cares to please…
So for those on the fence seeking days more seraphic, Balanced in a way that in the long term can stick, That allows quintessential moments to actually connect with family/friends each day, Just carve out the moment it takes to learn and start implanting elements for it TODAY!
The Poetic Life 2.0 