The Eye of the Storm

I've been learning to fully appreciate moments.

In all the chaos, I pause, experiencing the calm in the midst of the storm.

Noticing the breeze and how it moves through everything.

The trees sway and their leaves rustle. 

The clouds float across the sky and shapes form, change and dissipate. 

The birds are guided by the pressure and direction of the wind. 

Time ticks on , yet still I sit, absorbing and valuing each moment.

My eyes continue to scan the landscape. 

The colours of the grass, fading from vivid green to dusty brown.

The varying colours of  tree trunks
-grey, red, blue, silver, merging with the brown. 

The shade, making colours darker and richer.

The sun, making colours brighter and lighter.

Making dappled sunlight fascinating.

Looking up at the sun as it sets,

It draws the eye along with the blues, purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows.

It eventually gives way to deep purple, blue of the sky, and silver of the moon and stars. 

To think that God created all things, just using words.

But I know my words cannot truly express what the eye can see and the heart can feel.

So I would urge everyone to pause and fully appreciate moments.

To find the calm in the midst of the storm. 

  

Sunset

The conclusion of a day.

Its clouds signify the two manners

in which it has been spent.

The elongated, stretched clouds demonstrate to their beholder

those persons who have felt their days to be alike to such clouds.

In comparison the more condensed, small, cumulus ones

are the narrators of a day into which various things jostle to fit.

And then...

And then I observe the colours and shades of the background of these two tales.

And I am simply awestruck.

But then I see the delicate twisting of the eucalyptus trees 

upon this tranquil scene -

my breath and my words are stolen by what my vision allows me to see through my spectacles:

a spectacular scene.

My first decent poem;

 

My Country Haven

Slowly, ever so slowly, I open my eyes.

I open them to greet the late morning –

The soft, gentle, circular clouds.

Their edges are beautiful to behold

They are as pleasing and delicate as the finest china

They capture one’s adoration so much that the blue, peaceful tranquillity

Of the sky is almost disregarded and unequal to their loveliness.

Almost.

 

As I force my eyes to wander away

From the clouds and away from their

Connotations of restfulness to gaze upon

That pavonine sky, I am so struck and

Then absorbed in my inspection of it

That I am almost persuaded to pay

Little heed to the landscape.

Almost.

 

That glorious, breathtaking Australian Landscape…

So delightful and refreshing it is to gaze upon its fascinating green and brown folds.

They are the folds and layers of the landscape.

Like a beloved quilt, filled with warmth

And comfort and dotted with

Intriguing, intricate patterns of foliage and

Cattle slowly devouring the grass shoots beneath them.

 

One of these so intricate and intriguing patterns

Is that formed by the eucalyptus trees     

They are as dances to the soothing humming

Of the native bees and the song of the birds

Who would call them home –

 

Magpies, currawongs and kookaburras

All singing the melodious song of nature

Unimpeded by the unlovely,

ugly cacophony of the civilisation of man and that associated with it.

 

If only man could let alone

This God made quilt to rusticate

Peacefully until it is put to rights by its creator…

But can we ever resist?