Category Archives: Forest

Friends – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

S4300302.jpg

Photo: Wandoo tress at Mt. Observation, Mundaring, W.A. just on the boundary between Northam and York. This forms part of the Wandoo National Park and forest reserve in the Darling Range.

 

Friends

The Wandoo tree touched me,
unselfishly
it sent a leaf
which spiralled from so high,
slowly descending
on the warm air
and finally,
unannounced
it caressed my cheek,
we were hardly close before
but in that moment
there was a knowing and
the Wandoo tree and I were friends.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

29 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, Free Verse, mindfulness, nature, poem

Living The Questions

Vacillate – word of the Day

S4300058 (1).JPG

Straight ahead or turn left? (Frost’s poem comes to mind again Robert Frost – The Road Not Taken ). In the end it may not, but then again it might be a good choice! If only I could decide. One of the many tracks to walk or ride in Borannup Forest.

“Love says ‘I am everything.’ Wisdom says ‘I am nothing.’ Between the two, my life flows.”    Nisargadatta Maharaj.

Living The Questions

As I sat and inhaled the morning’s brew,
I mused that not all was slings and arrows,
nor was there a troubled sea to ponder,
just a vague sense that the horizon was unclear
and that life really is a series of questions
rather than a series of decisions,
for decisions only lead to more questions,
and the cycle endlessly repeats.
I am more resolved to this now
than my younger self,
to sit with the tension between two points,
to savour, to weigh, to wait, to play.
The joy is in the anticipation,
s lovers would agree,
not always in the resolution.
As I sit sipping my morning brew
I recognise I’ve come to enjoy the pleasures
of perhaps, of maybe, or let’s wait and see,
to see all sides,
and to play all characters,
till my circle has enlarged,
and there is no singularity,
no monochrome,
in fact, no circle at all,
simply the experience of
the beauty and the vagaries of life,
and to live the questions.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

30 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, life, nature, poetry, quote

Voices In The Glade

Glade – Word of the Day

IMG_0089.jpg

One of my many photos of Borannup forest, the glade is just in front.

 

Voices In The Glade

So profound was my experience that day,
when I entered that glade,
and felt the place.
There I surrendered my adopted
sophisticated self,
returning to my true child,
dazzled by delights so simple,
humble, natural, and beautiful.
How could it be that the honeyeater,
a dew drop, that dry leaf, the spider,
a skink or two,
a rock,
could change the very core of me?
This I know,
I left that glade
knowing there was more than I,
an intricate flow of life
that spoke to me,
and, overcome,
without words
my soul ran over.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

17 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, environment, Forest, life, meditation, mindfulness, nature, poetry

Country Jaunt

Jaunty – Word of the Day

IMG_0069

Base camp in the Stirlings, such a fun time.

 

Country Jaunt

I sense no grief in leaving the city,
my stress melts as country arrives,
as bitumen gives way to gravel,
as houses surrender to trees,
even the rain is welcome out here.
We make do,
we don’t do,
we do what we want to do,
carefree for days.
Only the sound of the fire intrudes
as we toast the moon,
and utensils give way to reverie
then thoughts of the morrow.
And as we must, one day soon,
take our leave of ancient friends,
I sense a deep sorrow in my going.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

25 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, life, nature, poetry

La Capella (The Chapel)

Exhilarating – Word of the Day

IMG_0577.jpg

Beedelup Falls, Pemberton. For me the bush is exhilarating, it refreshes and restores me. This is my true chapel.

La Capella (The Chapel)

I drink,
breathe in,
those familiar smells
of this hallowed place.
Myrtles form your vaulted ceiling
which resounds with the chant of my praise.
While your aisles are damp, meandering paths
through open woodland,
and at its center
your altar of rugged granite.
And yet, there is no intended sacrifice
save that which surrenders itself for another.
Sunrise and sunset are your stained glass,
an ever changing story of light and life.
Ravens, your gargoyles, guard the narthex,
announcing every entrance,
for everyone is called to this sacred space,
a sanctuary of wonder and delight.
This chapel of life-breath and beauty,
a sublime offering,
healing,
refreshing,
life giving.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

30 Comments

Filed under astronomy, bush walking, Forest, life, nature, poetry, Spirituality

Vola Come Un’aquila (Fly as an Eagle)

Volatile – Word of the Day

IMG_0434.jpg

Part of the Tatra Mountains, Poland.

Vola Come Un’aquila (Fly as an Eagle)

What could I tell you, human?
What could I say that would interest you?
You who rules the earth without thought,
with every capacity for endings
rather than beginings.
Ruled by your ego,
rather than presence to
all that could be.
And here I am
soaring above the clouds,
observing the snow topped pines,
thoughful,
weightless,
without suitcase of ages past,
without concern for tomorrow,
for tomorrow doesn’t exist,
simply this moment that I fly into
is all that matters.
What could I tell you?

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Note: Volare from the Italian which stems from the Latin Volar – to fly, but which also derives from the Latin for Volatile.

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

18 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, life, mindfulness, nature, poetry

Elegy

Energetic – Word of the Day

IMG_0158.jpg

The creek line along the outer wall of King’s Canyon.

Elegy For Mother

I stopped on the rise
where the trail opens to a valley,
and sat for a while admiring your view.
I took off my shoes and savoured your sand,
ran my hands down your powdery skin,
stretched my arms out in praise,
breathing you in,
taking you in memory,
sacred memory.
Purified in your creeks,
fuelled by your self-offering,
I reflect this on your paper,
in my electronica chic,
mineral products so smooth.
All that you are is
all that I am,
and all that I have.
Yet, though I valliantly try,
I have left you
exhausted,
depleted,
like a football I once kicked,
burst and rent.
Kyoto a faded vow,
my lust has consumed you
your energy spent
feeding mine.
And more than admiration,
or the faithlessness of plattitudes,
Mother,
Sacred Mother,
you need a hand.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

63 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Elegy, environment, Forest, life, mindfulness, nature, poetry, Spirituality

Be Like Water

IMG_0585 2.jpg

Moon’s Crossing, Pemberton.

 

I would break easily
if I fell upon this rock
unless like water

©Paul Cannon

 

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

23 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Forest, Haiku, mindfulness, nature, poetry

Nature’s Galleries

Sussurous

Also spelt – sussurus, sussurrous.

IMG_0363.jpg

The trail skirts the rock at Elachbutting Nature Reserve.

Nature’s Galleries

Plumes of breath
as warmth greets chill air.
Leaving the cocoon,
I embrace the moment,
solace in the billy.

The sun catches up and,
peaty mounds are steaming.
And despite the damp,
leaves crackle underfoot,
such is the nature of eucalypts.

The haunting sound of sheoaks
rustling in the breeze,
entwining as lovers.
Grasses faintly whipping,
softly sweeping.

The trail fills my nostrils,
woos my ears and delights my eyes.
Birdsong,
that sensual dawn symphony,
joy for the expectant soul.

Soft drizzle a bejewelled gossamer.
captivated, I move along,
one gallery to the next.
A masterpiece on every side,
unseen, curators scuttling along.

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

26 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, nature, poetry

Finding My Way

Deviate – Word of the Day

Connection

I once took an unknown path that led
across lichen encrusted granite.
I slipped and bruised easily.
But I made it to the top.
However,  it wasn’t really that.

I once walked blindly into solid bush
certain it was virgin.
Scratched, sore and hot,
I found the center and a rusted coke can.
So, it wasn’t quite that.

I once climbed a mountain,
a torutous path.
Wind, rain, burning sun.
I reached the awe inspiring summit.
It was almost that.

I once followed a tiny creek line,
there was no trail.
I heard frogs and birds,the rustle of leaves,
I smelt the humus and the sweet air.
It was close to that.

But it wasn’t my conquest,
or my discovery.
It was something deeper,
It was everywhere and everything,
and it was nowhere in particular.

At once it was synergy,
congruence,
a oneness, a different discovery,
where I belonged in the bosom of the earth,
and it belonged in me.

©Paul Cannon

IMG_3274.jpg

When was the last time you varied your route? When did you last enjoy a challenge like a side path or rock outcrop, a creek line, frogs, birds, moist earth?

When out in the bush, any possible path or route is likely to be a deviation for me. I am definitely curious and I love surprises and challenges. So another stop along the Norseman –  Hyden Road along the Woodlands Discovery Trail, just to see. A granite outcrop, a running creek, and a view from the rock, birdsong, and a variety of woodland flora. Well worth the deviation for such simple yet rich pleasures, and oneness.

Paul,

pvcann.com

17 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Country, Forest, life, mindfulness, nature, poetry