The Sunbaker

Dupain's sunbaker, baked in white-hot light,
can't move now.
Heat has pinned him to the sand —
immaculate specimen of
Australian identity,
fixed in gelatin silver
to hang on a hundred walls.

But if he rose, sweaty-sandy,
to cup his eyes from the white light,
squint across glaring sand
to the diamond-dazzle sea,
make his heavy way,
through slack-jawed heat a-shimmer,
feet-squeaking, to the black lava flow,
and there, on the burning rock,
poised and insubstantial,
the water white fire before him,
make a silver dive, quick and elegant —
he'd find another world.

Thrusting now, twisting and rolling,
schools of shadows gather him
to the depths. His hands flutter
close at his sides propelling him further
from the hard light of the dry world.
Sirens sing sibilants, mermaids groom
his floating hair as fingerlings
play hide-and-seek with the coral comb
and the silkie promises to catch
the moon for him in her seaweed net.

Max's bather, simple in the sun,
sing with sibyls in your dreams.
Nationhood has just begun
and nothing's as simple as it seems.

Falling to Earth

Falling past Andromeda
a precision vector makes
Alpha Centauri blur,
Arcturus recede;
flesh and bone press inward
— no breath.

A slow somersault turns
the craft to face Canopus
and carries her, drifting,
immune to the attractions of
Betelgeuse, Capela, Vega,
tumbling her helpless course;
crushed and numb
— no blood.

What transgression brought
this endless withering decline,
graced by lawful symmetry?
Sirius looms bright,
nascent in ardent desire
to stay this fall;
but judgement prevails
and dwindling continues
— no pulse.

Did Ulysses look to this sky marker
as he steered his wandering course?
Was this the light that
guided Penelope's unweaving?
This grain of fragrant light
in its pre-destined descent
— falling to the dark earth.

Tirra visits the high country

Tirra passed purposively through the open woodland with Trixie trotting steadily behind. She kept up the pace all morning moving constantly uphill through the thinning trees. By the middle of the day she found herself at the top of the ridge looking out across the wrinkled layers of mountain ranges. She stood in the airy space under the wide blue sky with only the wind blowing around her and Trixie at her side.

Expansively, she felt an easing and opening within her.

Breathing slowly and deeply, she turned to each direction and gazed out to the horizon where the dark blue dome of sky softened to pearly grey and met the last ridge of mountains soft and misty in the far distance. Time, space and wind played around her. Her skin tingled in the wind, her heart beat with the eternal rhythm of ages past. Here she was, her feet solidly on the rock, the weight of her pack anchoring her to earth, and her head and heart flying in the airy spaces - immersed in the living world.

Looking down, she saw the rock at her feet. Little stones lay on the textured surface bound by lichens and tufts of grass. She saw the dark contrast of her shadow, her familiar weathered boots and the tough, dry plants shaking in the wind. A few grains of sand blew across bare rock to be captured by a clump of russet lichen. She saw that the rock was slowly breaking up - eroded, particle by particle, by the heat of the day, the cold of the night and the constant wind.

Each grain of rock, each little plant, stood sharply outlined in the clear mountain air. Tirra let the wind blow away the last of her own haziness and felt a pure clarity within. Opened to the forces around her, she stood balanced between heaven and earth.

Sweet life - break my heart open and come inside.

The Garden of Delight

This morning, in the Garden of Delight, love came gently on us.
Its sweet melody whispered in the trees, shivering the leaves.
Its fragrance wafted through the tapestry of flowers
And flicked the ears of the massive hounds,
While the white unicorn stepped daintily under fruit trees.

This world of perfection, captured in coloured thread,
Brings me to the timeless moment
When we are overflowing with Love's grace.
Each element in its own space
Within the harmony of colour,
Has absolute value.
And the white unicorn steps daintily under fruit trees.

Come again, sweet Love's face,
Call me to this dance,
Create with me this world where we live beyond ourselves.
Be my beating heart, my crown of stars;
Weave this perfection in my soul
Where the white unicorn steps daintily under fruit trees.