Here’s a treat for you….

‘Baranguba’

The sky goddess springs from Gulaga,

dances across the glittering island

pivoting on twin granite sentinels

–          fin echoes calling all to rich feasting

as clouds of bait fish race the wind and whales.

Baby chicks melt into warm rocks

hoping their mothers win

the howling greedy dogfight overhead,

the little red hawk patiently

patrols malaleucas for wind tossed finches.

Clouds mirror stormy seas

as we poke the sea wrack,

startle dozing seals and

fat crabs in ruby anemones.

With sun and moon poised on each horizon

nautilus ride swell swollen weed forests

until the mass lunar glow

quickens in the gelatinous bay.

Raucous predations and the ocean’s cornucopia

make life simple here

while smoke and dust haze the coast.

image: Mignon Patterson, Selkie, kelp

 We’ve decided to mark 2013 by ramping up the cultural cred of the bloggo. It’s time, we reckon, to add a touch of class; to wit, a Pome Corner. More specifically, some lovely tid-bits from Minnie who’s been secretly tickling the muse for years…

‘Reconciliation Arrogance’

          I was so eager for knowledge

          sharing affirmation, 

          thoughtlessly skating into your presence

          to take what I could for my future.

          You talked quietly of genocide

          gently probing my blood,

          my ability to understand

          and honour past fragility.

          Your strength drew me in slowly

          and waited until I was humble enough

          to start learning

          that neither of us could change the past

          but could meet fleetingly here

          in our love of the beautiful red grasses, 

          redemptive remnants left in the tapestry

          of violent introduced green.

‘Enduring Love’

i. ‘In the Beginning’

We loved as Adam and Eve

innocent

blinded by passion

trusting the snake.

Then you committed suicide

but left your body behind 

for me to fall in love with 

over and over again.

I rose from each pyre

a shadowy phoenix

until only pain remained

to echo our vanity.

ii. ‘It Must Have Been Hard’

Silence is the only answer.

Love knows few words

demeaned at either end

by fleeting joy or hate.

What can be said?

All is breathing out and in

the smallest thoughts and actions

transforming everyday selves, 

redemption glimpsed

in the shifting shadows 

of life whirling maddeningly faster 

to oblivion.

image: Mignon Patterson, themeda buddha, kangaroo grass