Sunday, 31 March 2013

My Myth...My Dreaming

One of several figures created by William Ricketts.
(William Ricketts also has a spiritual sanctuary in the Dandenongs, north east of Melbourne.)
They appear embedded in a wall at Seawinds - beautiful parkland gardens atop Arthurs Seat mountain on the Mornington Peninsula overlooking Port Phillip Bay.

who am I?

I am the eyes of the land
as it was
and should be

my Dreaming was 
the bushland and desert sands
I was just a pilgrim

in my Dreaming
I found my running water
my earth place 
my star place 
my place to touch old wisdoms
my Mother's gifts to my thirsty soul

in my Dreaming
I created my rhythms
I created my songlines

in my Dreaming
my kookaburra found me
he gave me the healing of laughter
the healing of energies
he became my sign of intimate hope

he became
we became 
my spirit
my knowing
my understanding
my music

in my Dreaming
I create my rhythms
I create my songlines

and now
my Dreaming is your Dreaming

I am your eyes of the land
as it was
and should be

the bushland and desert sands are our timeless visions

we are just pilgrims

Meaning of the Dreaming to Aboriginal people
Meaning of the kookaburra as a guide

Linking to:
dVerse ~ Modern Day Mythology

Friday, 29 March 2013

Within the blurry depths...


Within the blurry depths of misty realms,
Where answers seem to slip beyond our reach,
Where sounds and colours seem to pale and bleach,
Where past and future seem to lose their helms,

I love to wander side by side with fears
And feel the breathless pulse constrict my space
And hear the pounding silence face to face.
I love my halting steps with calm veneers.

It's here I know I'll meet my secret self.
The dark within will breed some living charm.
Perhaps I'll take that tome from my mind's shelf,
Ignoring screams of inner fire alarm,
And read about my pooka kind of elf
Who mingles fun and Gothic kind of harm.

Linking to:
dVerse Poets' Pub ~ Miltonian sonnet ~ ABBA-ABBA-CDCDCD

Monday, 25 March 2013

A New Wendy...

the little mirror
at the bottom of the lucky dip barrel
the usual reflections

 a shocked Wendy
- tempest tossed
 from Peter Pan wings into
some underground fantasy - 
transformed into one
of several
black cut outs
configured from 
some Shakespearean rhapsody

her Wendy mirror
(and damned?)
her usual reflections

Now it lurks in pride of place
on the top shelf
of her wardrobe

Linking to:
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Open Link Monday

Sunday, 24 March 2013

My Other...


I feel 
the planets
the stars
taking their place

a new place
as it should be

the river is rising

I will meet the river
and though my light is
a little webbed with aeons of neglect
some will find me

the ice
will melt
into one song

and they will know
they own
the conscience
long thought

the eternity
that always has been

Linking to:
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Mini Challenge ~ Inner Wild Woman
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