newyearsday2
Dusk, Black Hills, New Year's Day 2017

In my front room, eyrie, window to the world,
overlooking valley, field, and stretch to mountain,
where in is out, and out is in,
I sit, day-fogged, content, cocooned,
immersed in words, and worlds away.

late-twilight, day fading,
dusk plumed the unseen sky, the curtained fields, and home,
submerged by drifts of curling foam,
shadow-dimmed the smoke-grey hills;
fog-swirl, cloud-drift, and flow.

light shift;
subtle, barely noticed,
seeping silent through the edges
of awareness.
a flicker, ghost-like,
riffling air, vibrating with strange undertones of
haunting, eldritch melody, faint sung
disturbing, 
pricking conscious thought.

my eyes glance up -
I am transfixed,
     drawn out, up into
cloud-fire; mist and tree and time and self are merged,
cloud-swallowed, all substance gone,
dissolved.

Imagine this;
an “other” world, unstable, shifting;
smoke-brown mutates to brick-red ochre,
crimson mists to rose, transforms to luminous red;
and dims to barest flushing pink;

endless synthesis and permutation,
a passion-play, ethereal, suffused
with shapeless, fluid form,
where time itself shape-shifts.

My mind, my body lifts, diffuses,
drifts free in glowing light, then, 
disembodied,
swirls with fog and cloud and mist,
folds tree and field in crimson, rose, and glowing red,
merges time with form,
unfurls, 
   flowing,  seeping into
     sunset cloud.
No more a separate entity,I'm 
magicked into transient form,
colour and mist-merged.

Imagine this.
mist feather-formed flamingo wings,
mysterious, alien
fog, sensuous, sinuous in brolga dance;
the flare of pink flushed
cockatoo lifting 
  in flight,
  the flame of scarlet robin's breast;
heart-blood's crimson pulse;
 the softest touch of 
          roseate dawn:

all that ever was, will be,
aglow, and glowing;
passion, love, and gentle
tenderness.becomes
reality.

Imagine this:
embraced in sunset cloud,
swallowed,
atom-merged in glowing, writhing fog
ebb and flow, 
       ebb and flow -

one long, long moment in one short life,
one frail instant
lingering, 
          flowing, 
                   fading, fading ...

light change,
shape-shift; time slowed to this.

one moment,
   one instant
    one fixed 
      one boundless
    point in 
                 time.


Copyright Jean Law – January – October 2017 

 

FROM MY WINDOW THIS MORNING
December 2016

gum1

 

FROM MY WINDOW THIS MORNING

From my window this morning

sun-drift

gentle green of sloping hill
content from weeks of rain

soft-shadowed forms
the single line of gums
fold down the flow of grass
hill-bound

sheep graze, white dots
on living green

in the rain-spill pond
a blue faced heron slowly wades its way

grey, slow
following receding line of shore
its seeking
gladdening my heart

closer, brazen ravens splatter mud-brown water
strong black bodies,
flashing, wings a-spray

I see them revel, play
in water-gift of spring
soon destined to recede into
the drying land

… and shrink to nothingness..

Wild wood ducks glide upon this marshy
pool

diving and weaving
calling out their
joy

the dams are full,
life abounds,
creation, re-creation,
wonder and delight

the land smiles.

my wandering gaze roams this earth
I love, am bonded to,
and falls upon

the gum that is the centre and the all,
burgeoning, widening, dipping laden boughs
in green skirt of scent
and glinting leaf.

The sun, the glowing sun, delights it,
slick sheen glistening,
oil-gleam,
sparks of fire dancing
to the languid tune
played by summer
breeze.

This is nature at its fullest flower
gums in finery of green and white and pink

soft stir of air …
the call and twitter and the caw
beat and flutter,
buzz and drone

rippled water, wade and glide
and fitful, gentle breathing
sky

haze heralds change,
morning peace melds into
lazy afternoon

sky-change in grey and slowly fading mountain rim
wind freshens, world-changes
recreated, time
moves by.

Warm afternoon
will fade in haze of softening light,
darken, fade …

the sun will set behind the western mountain range …
slow rapture

If fortune smiles, the spinning world will weave its day
to find me greeting wonder.

and I will celebrate
this ever-moving flow
undying rhythm

eternal nature, endless play,
unforced pattern, birth, and growth, and re-creation,
gentle bloom and fade of light,
enthralled, ensnared

until the final failing of my sight.

and death of light.

 
Jean Law copyright
December 2016