Category Archives: bush walking

A Soft Resting – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: found at secondchancegarage.com

“Work is not always required. There is such a thing a sacred idleness.” George Macdonald

A Soft Resting

I saw a remnant of myself,
something rusted, coiled, 
protruding from the earth
along the soft worn trail,
a spring long distended,
slack, spent, uncoiled from
its tight appointment held
in expectation of a downward,
pressured self, an overloaded
moment, surrendered to
release of a soft resting
along the quieter path set
apart from synthetic
acceptability of an imaginary,
plausible, path.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Eternal Palimpsest – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: another segment of cascade along the Lesmurdie Brook.

“A brook can be a friend in a special way.” Joan Walsh Anglund

Eternal Palimpsest 

I see you writing your story,
scoring your song along the
eternal spine of stored vibration,
compositions of worn love
hidden in abrasions, lost in folds
of timeless notions of intimacy,
smoothed across cleft and 
hollow of silences, now, once
more, the roar of charged 
meaning shaping a reawakening
of senses.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Sitting With Nature – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Hakea trifurcata found along Lesmurdie Brook, if you’re not taking time and looking you will miss it.

“There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature ….” Rachel Carson

Sitting With Nature

To sit
is to still, to see, to be
settled in connection
with all that is present,
feeling the space before you
as you reach out and touch
with all your senses wide open.

To sit
is to still, to see, to be
accepted in this moment
by all that desires to be
present to to you in your
quiet acceptance of the
generosity of this shared space 

To sit
is to still, to see, to
become part of all that is,
and return to your centre,
slowing down and listening in 
to the rhythms of life, that you 
might know yourself for the first time.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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As The Light Shines – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: a Hakea along the Lesmurdie Brook.

“The pursuit of perfection is tiresome.” Liz Russell

As The Light Shines

Beaten by fierce winds and cold rain,
less majestic after the passing storms,
eaten away at the edges of my defence,

∽ And yet, look closer at my translucent skin ∼

See my veins so clearly in the backlight,
now a version of stained glass in mono,
so beautiful as the light shines through.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Winter’s Expiation – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: segment of Lesmurdie Brook along the cascades and falls, Mundy Regional Park.

“The journey between what you once were and who you are now becoming is where the dance of life really takes place.” Darbara de Angelis

Winter's Expiation

Between the source and its ending
comes the journey unscripted, untold,
though bounded by ancient guides
and rhythms, the journey is its own
making of none foretold or known,
only its own drive to quench the thirst 
of its banks so long withheld before 
pooling in aesthetic delight, having 
been poured out as winter's expiation 
for summer's bold insufficiency
long endued.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Restoration – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Granite outcrop along the Lesmurdie Brook, Mundy Regional Park.

“Rain is grace ….” John Updike

Restoration

Excoriated by summer's gaze,
desiring winter's cool soothe to
bathe the long ache of leathered,
split skin, parched and papering
to dust, needing the kindness of 
heavens dew washing over the 
passage of time, soft as lizards 
feet, tender child of the brook 
once more, playing water's
song of restoration.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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The Next Step – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: The old rail line at Wialki (between Bencubbin and Beacon)

“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” C.S. Lewis

The Next Step

The shallow vein of happiness has a way 
of disappearing, like a road that suddenly
runs out when you least expect it, and the
moment before you is uncertain though,
nonetheless, it is a choice, incomplete as
it is, laden with all that brought you here,
and as you look back along the road, 
you know it got you to this point, but 
it is useless to you now, the next step 
can only be forward.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Chant For Life – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Bjorn has invited us to write a poem using chant.

dVerse Poets – Meet The Bar – Chant Poetry

Photo: One of the many Hakea variety, this one unfurling, Kings Park Botanical Gardens, Perth, W.A.

“There is a seamless web to life …. all Life is sacred.” Nat Hentoff

Chant For Life

For sister, brother tree,
we gathered agree,
so blessed are we,
ever so,
ever so.
For sister, brother fish,
we gathered agree,
so blessed are we,
ever so,
ever so,
For sister, brother grain,
we gathered agree,
so blessed are we,
ever so, 
ever so.
For sister, brother water,
we gathered agree,
so blessed are we,
ever so,
ever so.
For sister, brother cosmos,
we gathered agree,
so blessed are we,
ever so,
ever so.
As so you bless,
our gratitude flows,
may we in turn
be blessing to you,
ever so, ever more.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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How Might I? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Kaltukatjara (Docker River) looking towards a section of the Peterman Ranges.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m slowly floating away.” Kasie West

How Might I?

How Might I hold eternity
while my heart is reaching  beyond the 
skies with feelings of feathery float 
never before experienced, as this swirl
of temporal ecstasy has roused empyrean
visions so electric, that just to breathe,
to remain firmly grounded, seems 
impossible so, how might I begin to
hold eternity?


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

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Forming – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: looking eastwards to the ridge, Mundy Regional Park.

“You cannot look in a new direction by looking harder in the same direction.” Edward De Bono

Forming

It caught me by surprise,
whipping dust across my face,
forcing me to blink, once, twice,
icy winter wind racing onwards,
oblivious to my discomfort,
changing, then changing again,
crossing over me in spontaneous 
whirls, ruffling my feathers, so
to speak, introducing  the tiniest 
thought, a fleeting beginning,
a niggling doubt that, somehow,
I had stayed on this path too
long, and though I couldn't 
quite see it, there was, forming 
in my mind, another way.


Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®

23 Comments

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