from my bedroom window

lorikeet.

One of my best friends from my school days is in a rehab hospital after hurting her back. I visited her today and found the place rather depressing being confronted with the world of rehabilitation, age and struggle of those trying to get better. The most beautiful time of my visit was a short walk we took into the garden and both of us stopping and watching two Plovers or maybe the cousin two Masked Lapwing feeding and chatting and busy about minding their space.
Such a rewarding experience. We couldn’t see the eggs anywhere (they lay them in the grass) but both parents were making their raucous ki ki ki ki call every now and then and continued to forage in the grass ignoring us. Their uniform black and grey and white with their yellow neck decoration makes them distinctive and they were enjoyable to watch.

I call this a moment of grace for us both. Some could say a triumph of light over darkness. Moments of grace so often a gift from nature, change us – our perceptions, our perspectives and our lives. I feel the following poem taken from the section called The W, The Web,, plumbago,eb from A Call to Listen speaks of this.

from my bedroom window

a low aching sky
colour of wet elephant skin
swathes its heavy hide around me
a tunic for a warrior woman

blue flowering plumbago
laden with rain droplets
quivers in the breeze

a rainbow lorikeet dangles
from a drooping grevillea

the yellow-ribboned spider
orbited in diamond splendour
awaits her prey

the rusting gutter weeps a spangle of tears
ripples rhythmically the puddle it makes
its slow-tapping beat
becomes the music of this silver-slated day

the web

waiting_spider_web

This is the second section of my poetry book A Call to Listen that you will get to enjoy, one poem a day to think about. It has 13 poems in this section about life and the moments and memories that are part of that. Enjoy.
This first poem actually called the web which the section is named from, was about one day I was sitting in the garden admiring a butterfly enjoying the beauty of a white azalea and the blue flowers of the plumbago. She flitted about amongst the flowers as if all her christmases had come at once.

Meanwhile I was also admiring the yellow black striped spider . . .her web across the shrubs. I had earlier admired the beauty of the web with the jewelled dew sparkling in the early sun. It was dry now, but I could still see the web. When the encounter happened I jumped up in response and cried out ‘no’ but the whole thing was almost instantaneous.

spider web
” . .it spins out
jewelled glistening dew . . ”

the web

curves and lines orbit
between the slate blue plumbago and the white azalea
illusive in the stare of the day it spins out
jewelled glistening dew
long dried as noon had come

a butterfly in flights of fantasy
each interlude on its terms
flits and flirts with a shimmer and quest
communing with the nectar of life

its next encounter a delicious tangled seduction
contortionist struggle into the stillness of surrender
the yellow-ribboned spider winding with nimble fingers
caressing touch a consummation