bentenlaughing

I've been thinking of learning a new language Something different for the new year . It's never too late to learn Or change , To rewire the neural networks Inside my tired aged brain. I thought I might start with Blackbird Or Crow Perhaps the busy speech Of the honeyeater or silvereye But I'd have to be quite quick. I can pick out a few words Here and there From the river's urgent rush Hidden in the valley's green Replete from the rains wash. A bowerbird spoke to me In the shortened form Of glances and wing's Brushing the morning air But I missed the meaning Before I could ask her to explain. Some cicadas became vocal When the dappled sunlight emerged And shone on the eucalyptus High above. Then stopped again at the sound Of the breeze's whispered breath. And the peeled back bark Of the mountain ash Revealed some secret script Against the naked shiny trunk, Obscure and incomplete. I have little time To waste however With the angry mosquito's buzz...

You might notice The way that spaces Surround each moment's gift. How hurrying people adorn A world That sighs with murmured wind. Clocks will tick Unheard behind The pressure of today. One day silent they sit As cicadas cut the air. How this now Can't ever be grasped No matter how you try. You are void and open mind Dancing throughout so called time. Biog: I was born in Cootamundra in country NSW in 1955 but spent my formative years living by the ocean in Sydney's northern beaches, many hours spent walking on deserted windswept sand ,soaking in the vast beauty of sea and sky .  I tried my hand at poetry in my teens and twenties , particularly inspired by Gary Snyder , but I lacked confidence to do much with it. Now that I'm in my mature years I don't care very much what others think but I'm delighted if someone enjoys my ramblings, rough and unpolished as they are. I feel that poetr...