Tag Archives: Blackwood River

Refreshed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Rain – VJs Weekly challenge

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Video taken last winter, Blackwood river, Augusta.

Refreshed

If I could choose
it would be gentle rain
that soaks the earth
and kisses my skin
on warm days
when faded desires
need to be refreshed
and parched thoughts
need to be slaked
that the soil of my soul
will once again
bear gifts.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

47 Comments

Filed under Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem

We Need A Bridge – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

RDP Tuesday – Bridge

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The River Walk, along the Blackwood River, Augusta. It crosses a tiny winter creek, and preserves its integrity from too much foot and bike wear.

 

 

We Need A Bridge

Somewhere,
in someone’s mind,
there’s always a gap,
a troubled melange of uncertainty,
that slowly gnaws at the bone
of contentment.
And so a trickle of doubt
becomes a torrent,
becomes a flood,
and life becomes
complicated, dual, tiresome,
forever seeking what it will never find,
always looking in the wrong places.
Simply, the mind needs a bridge to the heart,
that there might then be a bridge
to the other.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

23 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Free Verse, life, mindfulness, poem

This Escapade – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Escapade – Word of the Day

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Winter on the Blackwood River a few years ago.

This Escapade
The guilty pleasure of time stolen,
no one waiting or knowing,
with no appointed time to place us anywhere,
even Cronos wasn’t looking.
And so the world gently faded
as the river called us along
to sing its free-form song,
that together we would flow
and be yes to each other,
imperfectly complete,
and fully wondered.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

27 Comments

Filed under bush walking, Free Verse, love, nature, poem

Fleeting Glance

Cursory – Word of the Day

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Just a cursory glance. Egret on the Blackwood, on the river walk this morning.

Fleeting Glance

The diurnal rhythms as certain as dawn itself,
furtively I tramped the path,
lost in myself,
ever hopeful of meaning.
Undaunted by the elements,
cold or rain,
focussed, longing, searching.
All the while naure’s communion speaking,
breathing into my life.
Rain washing me,
wind my coat.
I looked up,
an egret in the shallows,
our eyes collided,
a fleeting glance,
and just as suddenly,
mystery unfolded.

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

13 Comments

Filed under nature, poetry

Just Five More Minutes

Loath – Word of the Day

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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

29 Comments

Filed under life, nature, poetry

Wooden Bream

Awkward – Word of the Day

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Now that’s definitely awkward! Augusta tour boat jetty, with the Blackwood River riding high after heavy winter rains.

 

Wooden Bream

The evening light is dim,
and the tide betwixt,
swash, swash, swash,
lapping the timber sides
in rhythmic beat.
There’s a sole light with courting moths,
and shadows are moving about.
It’s deeper further along,
and the pros are casting there.
We’re at the shallow end,
the beginners place.
I set my rod,
the rig is ready,
bait set and the line is cast.
Then in it comes,
zzzzzzzzzzzz
an angler’s hazzard appears,
an inedible blowie.
Father demands a turn,
the rig is ready,
bait set and the line is cast,
and then it strains,
his excitement mounts.
He yells, “I’ve got one!”
The pros all turn,
“this must be good.”
But I cut the line,
his catch is inedible too,
a wooden bream.
“Dad, you’ve hooked the jetty.”

©Paul Cannon

This poem is a true story, one of my childhood memories. Black Bream is species of fish found in the Swan river, it is said that they are cunning and wily and hard to catch.

 

Paul,
pvcann.com

36 Comments

Filed under beach, boats, life, nature, poetry

Watching The Tide Roll Away

Chill Out – Photo Prompt

 

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The Famous Five chill out? Though I thought I heard them singing, “… watching the tide roll away …”  Walking the Blackwood on a rainy day.

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Filed under beach, bush walking, nature

Patina Of July

Woebegone – Word of the Day

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The Blackwood River, winter is here.

 

July

July,
you camped at my window.
The constant patter of your tears
blurring, intangible,
drawing me to uncertanity.

Yearning,
longing,
the ache of melancholy,
grey clouds,
heavy laden.

Tears born of sadness,
become streams of redemption.
Washed earth
melting,
becoming.

July,
I opened my window
and bathed in your wellspring.
You drank my darkness,
I swallowed your love.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

15 Comments

Filed under life, love, nature, poetry, seasons

Morning Love

Evanescent – Word of the Day

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Post dawn, winter morn, looking east across the Blackwood. Dawns come and go, I’m asuming there’ll be one tomorrow, and even when I’m gone, they will continue. But this one faded into day, as they all do. Dawn has a fleeting beauty, which accentuates its attraction. For me whatever the day holds, it cannot beat the beauty of that dawn moment, it is something very special.

 

Morning Love 

Just as yesterday,
we agreed to see each other again.
The promise of one more time.
To catch even a glimpse of you,
my heart beats.
And, you came along.
though I never really doubted.
No, really, I didn’t.
And there you were,
beautiful,
Suddenly revealing all of you.
Your warmth and beauty wholly divine,
embracing my fragile longing,
an ancient ache,
to hold on to you,
momentarily assauged.
And yet,
no sooner have you arrived than you are leaving,
fading into the crowded day,
Neaera folding into Helios.
Though my eyes have telegraphed my heart,
and your beauty is captive,
a tenuous hold,
but at least a memory.
Till tomorrow then,
As again you will awaken my soul.

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

 

41 Comments

Filed under Country, life, love, nature, poetry

Take Courage

Exposure – Word of the DayIMG_0134.jpg

Augusta, the town jetty, and Blackwood River rising.

Fortunately we had raincoats and we knew the rain was coming, but nonetheless, with the wind whipping the rain along, and the cold air pressing in, we felt more than a little exposed. But, because we were prepared we enjoyed the walk. The tide was very high as predicted by the Weather Bureau. There was also a lot of flow from up-river after three major rain bearing fronts have been through and local flooding was expected. You can’t tell from the photo but the timber decking of the jetty looked as if it was floating as the water was touching the underside. We haven’t seen it like that for a while.

Weather exposure can be very serious, hypothermia or sunstroke, the risks are great if you’re not prepared. Preparation means covering up, sunblock, hats, raincoats, warm clothes, appropriate footwear. So that whatever the weather we put on what is necessary to be comfortable and to protect ourselves. However, we know not to wear winter gear in summer and vice versa, and usually we’re good at that.

We’re not so good with emotional exposure. We’re trained, or we train ourselves, to overprotect, and sometimes we wear the wrong emotional gear, like using the mask of happiness to cover depression, or the mask of confidence to cover fear. Rarely do we let others in, we become invulnerable, strong, a veritable fortress. Yet the best possible way forward, the only true way to wholeness is to trust others with our inner world. Of course, it goes without saying, you don’t grab a megaphone and announce your life to the world, but there are people in our lives we can talk to, take off our masks, and be vulnerable with.

As Brene Brown has said many times, in our society vulnerablity, to be exposed, is to be seen as weak. Brown counters this with “vulnerability is our greatest measure of courage.” Brown defines vulnerability as “uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure.” It is an opening of the self to another, whereby empathy becomes the healing counterpoint or the supportive staging point, depending on what we are going through. Brown’s research is thorough, and in it she discovered that every courageous act was underpinned by vulnerability. That tells me that we can only really flourish when we are able to speak our truth and take off our masks and be real with others, then we are whole and not just pieces or segments. The fortress life may serve us well but to really floursih we need to let the drawbridge down from time to time, otherwise we not only defend ourselves against the outsider, we imprison ourselves from the world. I’d rather be open than be a captive! Take courage.

cherry tree winter bare
cold has stunted many new buds
the wild branch has fruit

©Paul Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

 

 

 

 

 

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