Poetic Prescriptions

 

This week we were inspired by the Poetry Pharmacy in the UK which started out with two poets travelling in an ambulance to festivals and setting up a stall. They'd put on their white coats and give out pill bottles full of specific poems for specific conditions. People would just approach them, they'd have a brief consultation and then provide the appropriate medicine, but this time in the form of a poem! They now have three Poetry Pharmacy bookshops which have done an amazing job introducing people to poetry in a new and innovative way. Below are poetic presecriptions, or perhaps antidotes, created by our Tuesday Poets.

Melancholy

Life is full of surprises

Take positivity where ever

You can find it

Reflect on life’s magic and

Remember that all things

Must pass

Anger

Place two feet in a pair of shoes

Breathe slowly in and out

Remember the sun will again shine

Of that there is no doubt

Release the stress from your

Body and mind 

Out in the sunshine you will find

Good people who are kind

Chill Pills

If you want to learn how others win

Stop and listen to the voice within

Joy

The summer blowing through 

The four fingers of my hand

Silent as the sea of Spring

Tripled in the lap of song

Or blind as the dancing girls

Breathing Ave Maria into

The drawing scent of

Heaving pine

Trying Circumstances

There are times when all that is needed

Is a fluffy kitten to lick the milky moustache

From your upper lip as you watch

The sun go down on another winter’s day

Then snuggle into a warm duvet and

Watch the silent snow gently

Fall on moonlit hills

Calm

Blissful silence surrounding your soul

Internal significance making you whole

Standing still… breathing deep

Calming your mind into sleep

Resonating with mother earth

To wash away and rebirth

Returning chaos to its rightful place

Standing tall, owning this space

Drenching your skin, with crisp air

Shredding all stress completely bare

Untightened chest… now you can breathe

Feeling lighter, fresh and relieved

Stepping out into the new

To be a cooler, calmer, unstoppable you!

Insomnia

Anoint your forehead with holy water. 

Don’t stop there. Anoint your nose

The back of your neck, shoulders

Chest and both feet.

Hug your pillow. Alternatively

Fluff your pillow. There’s nothing worse

Than an unfluffed pillow!

Give it a good whack, but be careful

Not to whack anyone nearby in the process

Their cries will only disrupt your sleep further

Turn the hallway light off and the one in the kitchen

Cover the annoying light on the alarm clock.

Throw your phone out the window

And breathe. That helps with everything.

A Handy Poem

 This week we stared at our hands for five minutes! This was an excercise to reclaim our attention that was inspired by the Friends of Attention, a nonprofit in New York. Staring at our hand is an antidote to the automatic ritual of looking at our phones but it's more than that, it's about connecting with our body and the world around us, it's about what we value and how we live our lives. Where we put our attention is our life! Needless to say this inspired some thoughtful poems!

Attention, In My Hand

I’m looking

Looking deep

Deep into my palm

My palm with crevices

Crevices of life

Life lived hard

Hard times with scars

Scars that tell stories

Stories of my existence

Existence of years

Years while growing

Growing older and wiser

Wiser to make choices

Choices of affirmation

Affirmation of choice

In my hand…

- by Jenn

The Soft Hand

I hear the movement like a small stream within

The blood in her hand 

And her skin

I hear its life force

Warmed by the red blood

Moving through the finger muscles

Or however that works

I hear the shaking of the fingers

And the shaking of the palms

The nerves working to compensate

As the air slowly moves through 

Softly touching the hand

Gently creating small flickering 

Movements - fingers and nails

And the air, wherever it comes from

Gently reminds the hand

That it too is alive, as are the 

Reflections of light that beam

Oh breath of life, breathe on this hand 

- by Haki Davis

Holding Hands

My hand is holding gold

Giving myself 

Holding seeds

About to be planted

Do not be afraid

I'm your friend

Here is my hand

I'm giving it to you

Take my hand and show me

What it can do

- by June Madsen

Object-ional Poetry

 

Today we were inspired by two objects that one of our poets brought into Artsenta. These found objects are special to him and through their presence and the naming of the objects, have become works of art in their own right. The above object is named the Blue Knight. Our poets were asked to respond to the objects, to describe them and their emotional response, and to imbue them with their own story. Here are the poems for you to enjoy!

BLUE NIGHT

A song is a book of smiles

brought home at the bend

of the road. The blue

angles of the innocent are

in the drifting cloud standing

like trees in the swinging stars

Golden is the end of this river

lost in the night of my eyes

The never ending circles that plunged

my creaking footstep, the silver 

shadows I threw cast into

the well of listening reeds.

By Edward Genet

TIN SOLDIER

War creeps like slow metal

waves on a field of sand.

Glass blown mansions of

wonder. The birds beating

Heaven, stalled in the full

stop of the grave.

The pen is a prow of

resurrection in the emotion

of an hour.

Dragons of the bedraggled

sprinkled the pavement

in a tinsel of bombs.

The sky is a verse of art.

A towering lift in the 

lilt of freedom.

By Edward Genet

BLACK IS BACK

Can you find

a simple spot

of colour?

elevate dark dreariness

rough time, debt to pay, doubt

When you dress to face new days

bring a fragment

to shatter the black

By Karen Judge

BLUE KNIGHT

Payne's Blue
Shady
Metamorphic
Solid but bouyant
Crust
Slab like
Coloured fossils
Oozing
Imitation of nature
The properties of plastic
The shape of a rock
Hard, yet light
And did I mention
It's industrial stardust?

By Matthew Donn

LANDING GEAR

A keel of a meteor
Heavy
Hard
Cold
Defunct
Destroyed
Shrapnel
Shards of a rocket ship
Molten media
Folding layers
Crevices and cracks
Oxidation
As a word of caution
Be very careful handling lead

By Matthew Donn

LANDING GEAR

If you look at the rock made of lead.

Broken ragged edges, smooth bumps.

The belly of the rock is smooth and flat.

As if it was carefully cut.

I imagine this rock is a tiny geological

piece of land. As waves crash into the rock

(aka the smooth slope of bumps)

deeper into the cold waters

where pressure raises and

darkness closes toward the 

ocean floor. I imagine the ragged

edge is the little life existing among

corals, seaweed and sponges.

Who knows? You could see an

imaginary shipwreck!

By Kirstin

Poetry Spotlight #2

Julia is one of our most consistent and passionate poets at Artsenta but she has a range of interests that you can find out about in this selection of poems. It's been amazing seeing Julia develop her writing and her confidence over the years. Thanks for sharing Julia!

ACTING LIFE

Last year I performed on stage

This year I signed up again

I love the idea of doing it again

It gives me the chance

To be social

Show my true self

Meet new people

And have a lot of fun

I performed twice

One at the end of term 2

Another at the end of term 4

To an even bigger crowd

Acting means a lot to me

As it not only gave me the chance

To try something new

But the friends I met the year before

I got to see again

Those friends also introduced me to

Staying up late and having night outs together

I’ve become brave and more social

I am so grateful for Acting Class

 

 

MY INSPIRATION 

He’s a believer 

He’s strong

He gives money to charity 

He keeps on going no matter the hate or love

He works hard every day 

He’s got a big heart

He always tries something new

Takes criticism very calmly and doesn’t fight back

He keeps his friends close

His music brings joy, love, hope and peace into people’s lives

Videos and pictures explain him in a thousand words 

He smiles everywhere he goes 

He just makes you feel strong 

No matter what happens to you 

He would be a wonderful friend 

If I ever get to meet him 

One day 

 

 
A FANTASTIC DAY 

Flying along a sunny sky

I wonder where I could find some yummy food?

As I’m very hungry!

I spot a big Laburnum Tree

Mmm… delicious leaves!

I then thought, I need a shower

The sun vanished and out of nowhere 

Rain came pouring down 

I didn’t want to fly in this rain

So I stayed on the tree

Spread out my wings

and started to wash myself

Who cares what those earthlings think?

I lift up my wings, my tail

Then my head

Once clean I ate more leaves

Until it got dark

So I flew back home

To my friends and family

To tell them about my day

and my shower in the rain

What a fantastic day I had

being a wood pigeon 

 

- Julia Godfrey

Poetry Spotlight #1

We have some wonderful poets at our creative writing group. They've come and gone over the years and some people lead busy lives which means they can't attend every week. But it's wonderful to get to know and appreciate someone's personal style and so we are going to spotlight some of our poets over the next few months. Today we feature MJD who has a story telling vibe and often speaks to a connection with nature. 

I AM THINKING

I am thinking of you my old friend the wind
You howl and bite
But you're not such a bad fella
You bring the breeze
You sing with ease
You speak to me
Ring ring!
Upon beginning my day

I am thinking
I'm thinking of droplets of rain now evaporating
Should I call up before calling in?
I wonder what's worse
Showing up at any given moment
Or never showing up at all

The oaks, the old oaks
They are proud
They're certainly tall
I wonder what they'd think of all my questioning
Probably nothing at all

TAIERI MOUTH MULTI-SPORT

Over the beach
up the river
through the forest
along the coast

Contestants of the race
are spread like butter
over a vast landscape

Once upon a time
it was eels and lamprey
who flocked to the awa
racing upstream

Today bright coloured bibs
line the scenery
like fairy lights
through mud, bush, sand,
gravel, roadside

Racers oozing like blood vessels
over undulating terrain
like a heartrate graph
peaks and troughs
the sky is the limit

Waves crash
sweat beads
seagulls soar
gears grind

If the landscape could talk
it would applaud the people and say;

Well done on returning to your roots,
showing what it means to be alive
free like manu
varied like the ngahere
with the power of Tangaroa

Blessed is the motu
blessed is the awa
blessed is moana
blessed is the maunga

May a gentle breeze
flow over the land
Haumi e, hui e, tāiki e!

 - MJD

Invisible Poetry

Poetry is often a solo affair so it's good to collaborate for a change! This week we took the theme of "invisibility". We all had a piece of paper with a different take on the theme and were then asked to write one line and then pass the paper to the next person to add a line. Each writer was only allowed to see the last line. This can lead to some delightfully random results but also wonderful synergies and a few laughs!

A CLOAK OF SILENCE

Wrapped in stitches of stillness

The stars went out, coffee cold

As the sun rose and the dew set

Everything looking so still

Deadly waters look shallow but run deep

What lies beneath?

A stern look on an empty street

The cold copper sprayed the blurry night light

And lit my face with a soft glow

Hidden in plain sight

Like a treat for sore eyes on a moonlit night

The moon itself stares back

The moon knows me.

I THINK THEREFORE...

I can evaluate

A situation with weight

I loosened my tie

And let out a soft cry

Relaxing through my body

Wellbeing courses lifeblood to my soul

I miss some things

Others were a delightful departure 

But I sank like the moon in no-man's land

Without a ripple in the surface of my mind

Going straight away, very faithful

And truthful, feeling blessed.

TOO SMALL TO SEE

Too quiet for people to take notice of me

I hide behind my fences

Polka dot defences

Ran all over her dress

And seeped into the earth

Looking like a hidden pin

Sharp tack solitude seeping

Downwards toward

The depths of morning

Revealing the truth hidden in the sky

Too big to comprehend, too far to see

Like it's a mile away

I AM INVISIBLE

No one sees me in the room

My feelings tell me gloom and doom

This place feels like I am surrounded by stone

My hands frozen, movements too slow

I caught the feeling like a chill in the rain

It crept up my spine like a spider

Feels like you're closing in on yourself

A prisoner of its own making

Of my own making

The weight on shoulders

Lifted my weightless eyes like a bird in the night

And breathed a sigh of relief.

A DARK NIGHT

The moon lost his way to heaven in the curtain of the night

His thoughts dark, his mind clouded

Can't find his way around

Directionless, stumbling in the dark

Engulfed it seems

In blackness, he seeks

The girl in the white dress with raven tress

Sung to the invisible moon

Hearing howls and growls in the silence

Are they werewolves, or only swearwolves?

Howling, so lonely

But a generous scream.

THE WIND

Breathe, breathe on me

Blow me around

Typhoon, whirlwind, all over town

Swirling up fallen leaves and scattering

Making the day dance

My tapping shoes skipped the gravelly path

Gleeful, grateful 

Feeling free, high in the sky

Pie-eyed dreams and misty eyes

Make my eyes tired

My eyes dance too

Flowing rivers strumming the street

Poetry on Display

 At Artsenta we are lucky to have several opportunities to share our creative writing - at events, on our radio show, in our street front windows, and also in our frames at the Dunedin Hospital. Here's some of the poems on display by our fabulous Writers Group poets.

Zen & the Art of Lawn Mowing

'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance' was a hallowed book in the 1970's counter-culture scene. Perhaps not the easiest book to read but it did inspire this week's writing session. Well we couldn't resist once we heard an account from one of our writers about their experience mowing the lawns at their croquet club and the challenges of their ancient ride on mower which sounded more like a cross between a chainsaw and a bucking bronco than a mindful Zen-like experience! So we started with lawns and quickly moved to blossoms which was much more... ahh... Zen. 

SWEET CUT GRASS

Up and down

            round about

Thrust here

            push there

Over and about

            Oh the smell

Of sweet cut grass

Mum did it

Dad did it

            sometimes

At Cherry Farm

            they did it too

And at Shetland Street 

            round and under the trees

Oh how I love listening

            to the loud mower 

            in bed

And it will be back

            again

- by June

SPRING

Cherry blossom

Like clouds passing

In the sky

Fluffy too

And pink 

Marshmallow-yummy

Lightly moving

Individually

How I like to be

Under the dappled shade

Always welcoming me

Heartily Spring

- by June

Writing with handcuffs

This week we imposed restrictions (the handcuffs) on our writing. Known in writing circles as a lipogram, this is where a letter is ruled out of use and to make things challenging ours was the letter 'e'. The last two sentences had 17 e's so you can imagine some trepidation within our group. It's incredible to think that in 1939 Ernest Wright wrote a 50,000 word novel without a single e! How hard can it be? Our second lipogram-like challenge was to 'flatten the dictionary', in other words write a poem with no tall letters - that's b, d, f, h, k, l, t. None of this was easy but we did it and some great work ensued. The first poem below is the no-e number and the next two are the flattened poems.

Hang with human
 
In a room

You saw a human

That is a girl

You walk up towards

To talk to this girl

It's amazing how the girl and you click so fast

You both got a lot in common

All day you hang out

At night

In your room

You think

What a fun day you had

Starting in that room

Spotting that human

 
- Julia Godfrey

exposure

privacy, none

open, exposure

anger    rage   pain

worse case scenario

so many nosey eyes

see me

exposure

privacy gone

- Jenn

a new way

a new way

viewing no anger

owning peace in you

a mirror in me

seeing a new overview

unseen in our now

a vigor as never

was in our scene

- S B P Davis

Dancing in the moonlight

 

Moths are the poor cousin of butterflies but they have their own beauty and a mysterious quality linked to their nocturnal natures. The challenge this week was to write an epic tale or poem about moths full of drama. Here's two quite different responses - a narrative poem and a poetic piece of prose! Thanks for reading.

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

Batting wings briskly under a back porch light

Seemingly, a million moths appear out of nowhere each night

While some fly slow and others dart quicker

But watch your wings little moths near the door mat

For you're being eagerly eyeballed by a caramel coloured cat

He's stealth and quick, quicker than the spray of a sneeze

And he'll stalk and hunt you, with untold ease

He's mastered the art of catching many things, including you guys

As his senses heighten and he widens his eyes

Many moths dance teasingly around his head

But he's quick to swipe, leap, prance and swat them dead

With his claws out, sharp at the ready

He watches one intently, keeping his body stiff and steady

Then with one leap he bounds in the air

Sending the moths into a chaotic frenzy up there

He hops and bounces around the porch like a wild bunny

To witness all this commotion is actually rather funny

And just like that he's caught one, a magnificent prize

As it wriggles under his paw, he watches with deep black eyes

Then all of a sudden, the movement stops

He lifts his paw slowly and to his paw his nose drops

It's not moving.....is it deceased?

As he stands up from the floor and his inhaling is increased

Just like that, the game is over, it's no fun anymore

As he walks away, the moth lays still on the floor

Then out of nowhere, the moth flickers and flutters away

Smart little bugger, who gets to live another day!

By Jacinda Hurring

JUST NOT MY TYPE

The lights were everywhere. Dazzling, they glittered in the low-drifting mist, split into sintered glass fragments, dropped onto the lawn and glowed on blades of damp grass.

A wet macrocarpa leant slowly towards the dull full moon, which glared down, its light dispersed across the mist, stolen from its beaming face and scattered, to be lost on the haze. Flickering colours ran up and down the tree as carnival decorations switched on, and the soothing mist waited expectantly.

As the people walked in, quietly, hopeful, two moths awoke from their caterpillar-sleep and crawled from secret places burrowed in the macrocarpa, to sit watching, waking, stretching. Wings unfolded and lengthened and, as night drew darker their patterns and spots were revealed; to any who could see in the dark.

First flight was exhilarating, weaving around the tree, moving quickly from one light to another. They wove around each other, and away, and back.

“Ugh moths” roared a woman, as her swinging handbag sliced through the air, knocking one to the ground. Gathering wings in quickly it sat stunned on the planet as the Handbag moved on.

Reoriented, it lifted and fluttered quickly to a tree branch, blending its browns and greys. A rest, reinvigoration. More light now, the mist was blowing, slowly. The moth fluttered, again chasing the lights, checking for the right wavelengths. Above the moon shone through clearly, full-spectrum reflection. 

The two fluttered around each other eyeing the greys and browns, purples and yellows, iridescent in the moonlight, then split away, still searching.

- KJ

Bibliomancy

Bibliomancy is to use a book to make a prediction just by holding a question in your mind and opening the book at random and seeing what turns up. In our case we used a dictionary, opening it three times to find three words. We then used these as prompts for a poem or a short story. Writers were challenged to add an element of prediction to what they wrote. Here's a couple of pieces from what turned out to be a very enjoyable session!

THE STYLE OF THE HEART

Nestled within our hearts, lays the style of the mind; embedded within darkness of self beliefs that make us blind.

There is a light that shines, a diffract, cutting away the dark. Revealing ourselves from within, of who we were; to reveal to us who we can become.

The diffract embedded with the style of the soul and all the possibilities that lay before, in a glittering blaze of hope. 

Shattering the darkness of past days revealing in the hour of our need, what we ourselves require to see.

To reach beyond all that we held in belief that made us blind. Opening our eyes to the truth we hold and always did, setting us free.

- S. B. P. Davis

THREE WORDS ... SINCE 1975

Flood Slip

Inexperience was Master

the dull, distant rumble beneath

             the constant dropping of rain

Vibration, house-shaking, earth-sliding

            evoking queasy-danger

not quaking, not rolling, unlifted-unlowered

unlike a rolling earthquake through banked grass

Acres of retrospection don’t do justice to memory

A story told and retold doesn’t live the fear, the doubt

the anxiety driving thought to weird action

Events infrequent, rarefy and scatter emotions tied to aloneness

Again with the rain, the flood, the slip

not rare now are fear, doubt, experience

Again?

- Kate Jenkins

Next level acronyms

 Acrostic poems are indeed like long acronyms with each letter standing for a word or sentence. They're a great starting point for poetry where the poem often encapsulates the meaning of the word. Here's a few poems from a recent creative writing session. In case you wondered, the title is the combined first letter of each line!

Circulating feelings, emotions, thoughts

Racing

Enthusiastically

About

The

Innermost deep

Voids of my soul

Igniting

Terrific 

Yearnings to escape and be free

- Rachel

Fire

Raging

Under

Solitary

Truths

Rendering

Attractions of hope, passion, and dreams

Tearfully 

Incapacitated

On the cold, empty road that will only take you down the path of

Never

- Rachel

Climb

Outside

Meet

Me

Under

Neath

The

Yellow 

- Anon

Music plays bedside

It flows in like soft scent as

Natural as a breath, a

Deep well of density

Filling my bones

Uplifting my spirit

Leaving me lightly, wafting

Nowhere but here

Eyes closed, but

Still

Searching

- Anon

Radio NZ ran a cool little comp for National Poetry Day recently. They give you six random words and you have to write a poem no longer than six lines using all the words. Easy except some of the words don't quite fit together, but it's a great challenge. We ended up doing the words from the last three years of competitions and the good news is - it get's easier as you practice! We were too late to submit these but we had fun! 

2021 Word List - Cloud, Sound, Orange, Clear, Shark, Break

Cloud break shows orange

Rays of sunshine

I can hear the sound of a shark 

Thrashing through the clear waters below

The shark breaks water

And reaches up to the sunlight.

- Gail Palmer

WHAT WAS THAT?
Skittering sounds, like orange pips skating on shark skin,
break clearly onto a cloud-free beach

- Kate Jenkins

2020 Word List - High, Still, Stick, Train, Can, If

If the train can stick to its schedule

We can be there by high noon.

If the train is slow we will still

Get there some time.

If the train stops altogether

We will be left high and dry.

- Gail Palmer

HABIT
We stick to the same train
but I care not for the high price
If I can I will be still, and stay

- Kate Jenkins

2022 Word List - Melody, String, Wave, Rumble, Tennis, Decision

RANDOM
His sentences bounce like a wanton tennis ball
rumble through, as if on a bass string plucked
            or a long slow wave crawling ashore
They trip on a rock of floundering indecision
Less a melody then an orchestral diffusion

- Kate Jenkins

The rumble of the crowd
The ball hitting the string
A game of tennis
With a wave going around
A final decision has been made
A melody of cheers going at the same time

- Julia Godfrey

Through the Mist

This week we were invited by the Kohukohu Library in the far North of the North Island to enter their poetry competition. What a surprise! So we did. Here are some of the poems created in response to their theme of 'mist' which is something special anywhere - the atmosphere, the mystery, the sense of isolation, perhaps even a spiritual experience? Mist is many things to many people. Enjoy these four poems from our creative writers!

 

FRIEND OR FOE 

Mist
Is it a friend?
Is it a Foe?

To me
Mist is a friend
Because it's very helpful

At night time, if you're up late
Mist will be there to save the day
Why?

Since night time is dark
Especially at midnight
It's the best time for mist to appear

Mist appears in different colours
But is very light
Also big

So if your travelling
Late at night
The mist can guide you home

That is why
I think mist is a friend
Because it always can appear 

In your time of need


- Julia Godfrey

m i s t

Descending stealthily

On valley ridge


Spreading damp white fingers into

Crags and crevasses of

Eroded landscape


Softening pointed caps of

Planted pine


Spreading quietly with

Loud effect


m i s t . . .

- Pauline

MIST

shapes forms

emerge dissolve

ethereal


creatures trees

ridge lines

shapes


mist substance

liquid light

reflected


sunshine moonlight

cold water

upright



- Kate Jenkins

v1a

Kapuka Taumahaka ki Otepoti

- Mt Cargill, Dunedin -

the cloud forest on the hill

soaks up moisture

sets itself for scratch growth

between volcanic boulders

unseen in the blanket of droplets

frequenting the upper slopes

sun fractures and reflections

shine grey or white

chilling rare micro-plants

moulded by this solitary climate

leaflet, moss and lichen

incredible wee shapes peek from

this mist pendent beneath the summit

wilting damp onto farms below

a halo light bright

emerging fading dissolving

- Kate Jenkins

Matariki Poems

 

We've spent a couple of weeks writing about Matariki and what it means for us. We've thought about dawn ceremonies and getting up early, and times when we've being up late under the stars. We've given the word Matariki an acrostic treatment (that is we used each letter as the start of a poem) and we've explored the whakatauki or proverb 'He waka eke noa' to think about our shared purpose. This loosely translates as 'We're all in this together'. Some of this poetry features in a Matariki display in the Artsenta windows along with waka sculptures, poems and paintings. Awesome work!

Meaning full
Attribute
Twinkling gathering of stars
Attending the dawn
Reviewing of year past
Interest in what beckons from the new
Kissing goodbye to creatures passed over
Inward-journey-eyes gaze upward . . .

- Pauline

Mystical
Annual
Tradition,
Atmosphere
Reaching
Inwards,
Knowledge
Increasing

Mum and Dads’ birthdays have recently passed
At the time I missed
Their many little doings
A garden overhaul
Recent newspaper cuttings
Interruptions by phone
Kisses and hugs
In touch

- Kate Jenkins

STAR GAZING AT DAWN (MATARIKI 2022)

One time I rose early
Sleep would not come, Vexation driving it out
A quiet relaxing drive, no traffic on the road, to
A dark mountain blocking out the night
The challenge: to walk, reach the height, watch for dawn
It was a cloudy night

Two times I sat outside the tent
reveling in starlight, cursing my limitation,
What star is that?
Then Alpha Centauri, then Crux, and
the long line to Achernar, telling me South
I know my way

New times; I will rise early
Search the Eastern horizon for the promising stars
Rigel and the Seven Sisters – Puanga and Matariki
        for those who mourn
        the Hope Bringer
        the Gardener
        the Singer of Forest Songs
        the Watcher over Water
        the Team Builders
        the Enthusiast
Then will I draw back to Earth, to Papatūānuku
Begin again, anew

 

- Kate Jenkins

FOR SYDNEY - JULY 2022, 1

Having this water to deal with
each person must / should / could play a part
When Earth moves, or rain doesn’t stop falling
all of us together (he waka eke noa) can practise
kindness, comfort, giving, sharing – as our
attachments to Things wash away in this flood
Endless losses scour our hearts
kindle doubt, fear, horror, amazement and
excruciating shock
Now is the time to clasp tightly
onto the living – friends, pets, neighbours, loved ones, God
allowing Presence to bring a smaller sense of Life

FOR SYDNEY - JULY 2022, 2

Here we are
Everything shaken up
Wondering, why?
Affected, emotional
Knocked out of life
Are we safe?
Each person changed
Known spaces destroyed
Everyone challenged
Nothing will be the same
Ordinary now extraordinary
All we can do is watch

- Kate Jenkins