Category Archives: bush walking

Pelicans Align – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: Hardy Inlet, Blackwood River, three pelicans in the shallows.

 

 

“Many pelicans fish by swimming in cooperative groups …”  National Geographic

Pelicans Align

Just a grey October day where
the river reflects its sky so well,
a flash of white dazzles on the
far eastern shoreline
a painter’s bold smudge,
the air murmurs but doesn’t move,
gulls and terns circle and pass,
suddenly the daub of paint moves
and catches my eye,
five birds take to the sky
thermal surfers wheeling and circling,
soon five more, and another,
till forty pelicans align in a
grace that belies their size
and somehow the world seems
to be a better place.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Filed under beach, bush walking, Free Verse, life, nature, poem

I wonder – prose by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Prosery

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Photo: the majestic Karri trees at Boranup.

The dVerse Prosery is hosted this week by Merril and the line to use is “These memories were left here with the trees.” from ‘How to Write a Poem in a Time of War.” by Jo Harjo. Using that line create a piece of prose of 144 words.

 

I Wonder

I wonder what happened here before I am. This one tree might speak of so much. But what might a forest speak? A grove of knowledge no cloud could carry, a living intelligence that pales Plato, or the vast paucity of philosophy. Each bole a reliquary of life’s passage, each annual ring a repository of a truth greater that the sum of what we call knowledge. O to be grounded in the strength of your heartwood and risk the sky, or to shelter in your caress and know love, to know what you know, to sup from your fount. Evanescent, history passes, held by your compassionate gaze. Of owls and wars, lovers and seasons, for each an ossuary caringly covered by your blankets and, until the one who knows as you know, that only love uncovers, these memories were left here with the trees.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com.

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Filed under bush walking, challenge, Country, life, love, mindfulness, nature, prose

The Meat – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Spontaneous – Word of the Day

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Photo: One segment of the Northcliffe Art Walk, sculptures in the bush, quite striking when you get such colour randomly appearing. We went on a whim.

 

“Why not seize the pleasure at once? How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation.!”  Jane Austen, Emma.

The Meat

All the grids of the world
only ever speak of disorganisation,
cages occasion freedom
while structure poses random,
so stand where you will
where you feel drawn,
the choice is yours,
but mark my words,
of segue, impulse and whim,
well, that’s where the meat is.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

29 Comments

Filed under art, bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem, quote

All Gone Now – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

VJs Weekly Challenge – Recovery

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Photo: Niagara Dam near Kookynie, an oasis in a dry land. Kookynie once boasted a permanent population of 3,500 people at the height of the gold rush, and double that with transients coming and going. From 1895 to 1910 it was a bustling town, when the first world war began (1914), and then later when the gold price dropped (1923), the population declined, and from the 1960s it completely diminished, and today it is listed as a ghost town with ten people.

 

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts …”  Rachel Carson ‘Silent Spring’

 

All Gone Now

Swarms covered this fragile land
as gold fevered a crowd,
and in the middle of nowhere
somewhere sprang up
from zero to thousands,
a mayor with parades,
schools and shops,
all gone now ‘cept the dust,
the train now a ghost,
the crowd has thinned,
just a couple remain
and of course, as always,
the pub with a tourist or two,
those halcyon days
will never return
though the land recovers itself.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

36 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, history, life, nature, poem, Uncategorized

Storied – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: A granite rock north of Bonnie Rock.

“It seemed that out of battle I escaped down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped through granites which titanic wars had groined.”  Wilfred Owen (‘Strange Meeting’ 1918)

 

Storied

I walked your soul
and touched your heart
which beat a thousand beats
from before time,
august you rose from the earth
weathered you remain
pocked and pitted,
I beheld your beauty spots
and wizened skin
with captured fragments
of storied lives
like passing clouds,
and marvelled at your solid form,
grounded, yet ever changing
from within.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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A Point of Grief – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: Lake Brown looking west to the setting sun.

“Filthy water cannot be washed.”   African Proverb

 

A Point Of Grief

There’s majesty in this ancient death,
just to walk the barren shore and
take in the necrosis of dead trees
and pinkish water,
nothing lives here
except the salt, of course,
a living death
that burns to the touch,
even the wind moves
in eerie reverence
across its tortured surface,
a millennia of dying
offering a point of grief
to all who long for something more
in this tortured world
of love and loss.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

40 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, grief, life, love, nature, poem, quote

Solaced – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: on the road to Jindalee, out bush among the mallee and mulga.

 

“And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul.”  John Muir

Solaced

In those long brumous days when
my chest is wearied
and sorrowed
I dream of Maarla and Ooldea,
longing for that silent word
offered without guile
to flesh and feathered alike,
and held in the company of
such wisdom born of stillness,
a scintilla of self-acceptance
there, in that moment,
I am solaced,
whole.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Note: Maarla and Ooldea are types of Mallee. Mulga is Acacia.

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Good Friends – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse Poets – Poetics – Purifying The Mind

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Photo: The breakaway at Jindalee, so still and quiet.

 

“Since all is empty, all is possible.”  Nāgārjuna

Good Friends

I was a younger man then
when I wrestled the kraken of nemesism
and made friends with silence and stillness,
almost by accident it seemed
leaning on the strainer post
looking out across the paddock
at the sunset painting itself,
and everything melted
just fell away,
leaving me light of heart,
ever since
my friends have stayed the course
in various guises,
and wherever I am they are there
a welcome balm
for my cosmogyral mind.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

28 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Farm, Free Verse, life, meditation, mindfulness, poem, quote, Uncategorized

There She Was – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

dVerse – Poetics – Temperature

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Photo: pxhere.com

“Licence my roving hands …”  John Donne

 

There She Was

Where paths lead,
the abiding question
niggling at my core,
river bend
or river pool stroll
and so it was,
waterhens idled
and the water was velvet
under the spell of lilies
those sirens of fertility,
and there she was
nymph arising,
my mantra
lead me not …,
failing,
bursting into flames as
her eyes called.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

36 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, love, poem, romance

Where I Am – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Solitude/Solitary – RDP Thursday

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Photo: One of my favourite places, Jindalee, a true solitude as with many places in the centre.

“The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone.”  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Where I Am

Can I really bear myself
in silent quarters close,
to shut the door of every noise
allowing my mind to freely wander
and not count the cost of clocks
or the doings of productive minds,
to surrender instead to a
productive nothing,
can I trust the silence that
brings me to myself,
can I be with me,
just me,
for wherever I am,
there solitude waits.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

49 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Free Verse, life, meditation, mindfulness, poem, Spirituality