DECEMBER 9: OUR MONTH TO BE AT PEACE WITH THE WORLD by Colleen Keating

Friday 9th DECEMBER

Day 9

The Swan

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

– Mary Oliver

How did I feel , in my heart, today as I met my dear friend and confidente and school friend from many decades back and as I received a text from another dear friend with her sharing of a tree she saw on her morning walk . . . its leaves in the light, breathtaking? 

And have I finally figured out what beauty is for ? 

I can only say I have come a little closer to those questions and as one poet says I am living into the answers. 

One thing I do know  Nature  for my friends and I is saviour . And with my friends we both agree from our deep spiritual awareness, Nature speaks to us   as the one who helps show us the way and nature is our chapel, church and cathedral.

Buildings where we once felt secure do nothing now for us compared to  the shape, colour, texture, smell, story, feel of  nature especially a tree.

And in this beauty  is peace. Peace for all the world??

Each of us cannot make that happen. We can only work towards it in the place where we stand.

We can only make it in the person we are and let it radiate out from there and hoping  there are enough of us that feel and act that way so that  it hits the tipping point  for peaceful ways, peaceful answers, peaceful solutions rather than always falling back into fighting and wars.  Peace can reign and life is happy for both sides of any conflict when resolutions are worked on. 

Paperbarks on my Lake Walk

speak in theirs tones of browns and cream and buff
their conversations stance all unique, feminine and real,
their rootedness, grounding and sense of place

reminding me to be present to every moment of the day 
their texture that encourage me to race home and write
and in the sound of their leaves rustling in the breeze

John Muir Trust Writing Competition  – Wild Inside

Thomas Keating-Jones wins the Bronze Medal in the John Muir Writing Competition – Wild Inside for his poem in the under 18 year old section

 

 

It speaks as a 9 year old  boy in lockdown. 

I think this tree is smiling 

I think this tree is smiling 

With the light of the sunshine warming up it’s tiny new green leaves 

I also feel like smiling 

as the sun washes away the darkness in our hearts 

I think that tree is smiling 

With happiness and joy, as I look through a window

where the cherry blossoms danced in the wind

Gone now 

Time is passing

I think my tree is smiling 

As he knows his role in the world 

I can feel it’s strong branches 

It can feel my tiny hands 

I am up in its canopy hidden from the lockdown world 

My view is special and just for me 

I think this tree is smiling 

Smiling straight at me

I feel like smiling

I feel free 

Thomas Keating-Jones  

9 years old

 May 30th 2020

John Muir Trust Writing Competition  – Wild Inside

Under-18s Poetry

Winner: Jane

Linda Cracknell said: “This writer has created a great form for their poem,

 including lovely rhythm which makes it excellent to read aloud, 

and it’s clever, showing the human is clearly part of the natural world.”

Silver: Eliza

Bronze: Thomas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

saving the jacaranda

It was on an autumn walk I learnt the old Jacaranda tree that I loved was under threat. It was in the way of new pipes. The pipes about 2 metres in diameter were being dug in and the gorgeous old Jacaranda was in the pathway. The next day there was an arborist directing the men down amongst the roots gently digging out the soil. The pipe was placed in underneath the roots. Then in November, 6 months on there it was, in full glory . . thanks to those who had worked to save it.

jacaranda_tree

saving the jacaranda

the line for the new concrete
drainage pipe
runs under the massive old jacaranda

meticulous to protect its roots
day after day the council men
ratty and mole in fluorescent yellow
dig a man-made warren
wide and deep

exposed roots
stretch and coil like dark bearded monsters
from a tenebrous underworld
smelling earthy airless damp

then overseen by an arborist
a crane lowers the pipe into place
and this private world is reclaimed

a year on
standing before its gnarled trunk
on a lilac path
i am corralled in its aura
of blossom-laden branches
and i rejoice with the breeze
in whispered mantras