The upper reaches of Margaret River where it crosses a road, this year a steady flow.
paul,
pvcann.com
Eternal
Another Wattle (Acacia) taken at Manea Reserve, the blossom is always so rich and golden, like miniature suns. Acacia carries a multitude of meanings, including; purity, fortitude, renewal, eternity and love.
Eternal
After an aeternus
Helios landed with a thud
showering sparks across the land.
It must be so, because
the trees are ablaze,
golden with fire so bright
I averted my eyes, for
I could not hold your gaze.
You possessed me,
devoured my senses.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Vacant Mind
We’ve been more of a camping, bush travelling type of family. But a couple of years ago we decided to take the Ghan from Adelaide to Darwin. It was a great choice, and a great holiday.
Vacant Mind
Where are you?
mmm … O, sorry, I was miles away.
Really? I could see that.
I was thinking we should go on a holiday.
Yes but you’ve just been, miles away, again.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Filed under Country, Five Lines, life, poetry, Trains
Tjukurpa
Photo: Dry creek bed – the Hull River, Northern Territory. This particular spot is also the site of Kulpi Tjuntinya also called Lasseter’s Cave. The river is mostly dry on the surface, and runs underground. There are many soaks along its route. When it does rain heavily the water can be one third up the height of those trees, which given the width, is a mighty volume of water.
The Australian bush, long before white settlers, was well protected with the harmony of traditional law or Tjukurpa – pronounced Chookapah (following the Central and Western Desert peoples view). The law is an oral tradition handed on generation to generation and memorised. One of its central principles is respect for all the elements of nature because everthing is in relationship and everything has an effect. While the words harmony or balance are not explicit, the principles are evident in the way Australian indigenous peoples treat the land and each other.
In the Balance
Where once where trees lie salted plains
and dusty cattle ruts.
Camels, mines and 4x4s,
billabong and creek consumed.
Settlers coveted and misunderstood,
but the Anangu have wise ways,
and through their ancient dreaming,
there came ways of loving nature whole.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Country, environment, history, Indigenous, life, mindfulness, nature, poetry, Quadrille
Pure Folly
The Folly was an 18th century English/French idea where a piece of architecture was built simply to decorate a garden or a field. While in Ireland some were used as a way of providing employment, in England they were mostly an indulgence of the wealthy. Many were replicas of the seven constructed wonders, famous castles, and other architecture. Some served a purpose, like a pavilion, but many were in fact, just decorative. There are, in my mind, plenty of modern equivalents.
Pure Folly
There you stand,
once as grand as Troy.
Now your weathered alabaster
and marble refinements are greyed,
pock marked, amd worn.
Your rondels as if ravens had plucked their eyes,
the adorning orb no longer shines
yet the sun has not set on you.
You look tired
ravaged by nature from whence you came.
Even so, you stand defiant
lasting testimony to decadence past,
a vision of something grand,
or, perhaps, a flight of fantasy.
As I ascend your steps to the heavens,
I hear the crowd roar and the clash of shields,
the Trojans quake,
O Helen.
Such folly in a folly.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Perseus
Constellation – Word of the Day
Perseus
Son of Zeus and Danae,
sacker of cities, warrior,
hero by heart,
White Tiger of the West.
When Danae was threatened
you feted Polydectes with the head of Medusa,
that Gorgon.
And later, long before Heracles,
you rescued Andromeda from Cetus.
Many are your deeds,
and, though Homer was tight lipped,
at least Ptolemy gave you a place
after you had gone to the nothern skies.
There your light so shines,
a constellation of hope,
keeping company with your beloved,
keeping watch,
incorruptible,
lover of good.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Crime Scene
Investigation – Word of the Day
Henbury Meteorite Conservation reserve, in the Northern Territory. One of twelve craters left by a meteorite 4,700 years ago. We found it a great place to explore. Scientists continue to investigate the particles and debris from the meteorite found here.
Crime Scene
Footsteps recede,
The silence is eerie,
only a sliver of light
as I carefully crack the door ajar.
No footmarks or fingerprints,
no signs of forced entry.
I open the door,
aha, just as I’d thought,
shelf’s empty,
Someone’s abducted my custard tart.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
The Transition
Fragrant – Tuesday Photo Prompt
The gentle fragrance of the winter bloom of Acacia, lovely to see these Wattle trees signalling the coming end to winter and the arrival of the southern spring.
Rain moistened soil
wattle trees glorious
gestation of hope
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Filed under bush walking, Haiku, nature, poetry
Just Five More Minutes
Rain on the Blackwood.
Just Five More Minutes
Rain spattering our roof,
rivulets
gutters gurgling
as the torrent sluices
down, down,
and further down the doona I snuggle.
The thunder of downpipes,
quiet slick on the glass,
the soft patter of drops on leaves,
such a beautiful sound.
mmmm
What?
Tea?
mmmm
an elbow finds my ribs.
Please?
But it’s warm in here.
To no avail,
as the reply comes,
it’s your turn.
An inward sigh,
I’m loath to breach the doona
and face the cold.
Just five more minutes …
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Self-reflection
Photo: cdn.notonthehighstreet.com
Self-reflect
Mirror, mirror on the wall, help me discern my noble call
who am I, I desire to know, I’ve read a lot and talked till dawn.
I’ve roamed the world and compassed wide,
but in the end experience shows that
reflexive praxis deeply speaks.
©Paul Cannon
Never, ever discount soul companions or journalling in deep reflection on life and direction.
Paul Cannon,
pvcann.com
Filed under Five Lines, life, mindfulness, poetry, self-development
