“I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.” ~ Vincent van Gogh

Monday, August 27, 2012

I Step Outside

A cold, clear morning.
Ragged patches of cloud,
more navy-blue than grey,
linger after last night's
distant thunder.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Out On My Walk

Out on my walk
though I'm deep in grief
bright yellow Everlasting Daisies
with central circles of gold
cause brightness for me too
for a moment.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Lying Back in His Bed

Lying back in his bed
in the nursing home
he puts one arm up
behind his head.

'Why?' I ask him.
His eyes twinkle.
'Just because,' he says.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Hospital Patients

Two elderly men sit side by side in armchairs, chatting happily. They are dressed in their outdoor clothes. One has a deep red jacket, the other a mauve shirt. Both are in jeans. They are white-haired and balding; one has a thick white brush moustache. They are smiling and laughing as they yarn to each other.

My Husband in Hospital

All day he has been by the window, looking out at the hills across the way. This morning he was sitting up, admiring them. This afternoon he was resting. When I asked, 'Are you awake?' he opened his eyes, looked out at the sky, and said with pleasure, 'Oh, it's all bright!'

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Early Morning Birds

Early morning birds
and the expectant hush
of Spring in the air
take me back

to my grandparents' house
amongst orchards
in Tasmania,
six decades gone.

Communication from a Friend

She sends me a song about holding on.
She sends me the image of a tree surrounding me:
a big trunk; strong roots going deep in the soil.
I won't fall, she says, no matter how windy the storm.
She doesn't realise that she has also told me
exactly how much I'll be buffeted and shaken.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Purple Daisies

The purple daisies —
four with short stems,
in my tiny, spherical
cut crystal vase —
half close at evening,
showing their darker

I found them
two days ago
when I came home:
stuck in the wire
of my front door.
Who gave me
these purple daisies?

Monday, August 13, 2012

In the Hospital Bed

In the hospital bed I notice
under the white gown
how thin his arms have become.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Calling the Hospital

His voice on the phone is weak. And he can't hear me. No-one has remembered he needs his hearing aids. We yell at each other vainly, frustrated.

'Have you been to our place?' he asks.

'I'm here!' I tell him.

'I wish you were here,' he says.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Kay's Chicken Soup

Kay's good chicken soup
that she brought me
because I'm sick
stays with me.

Its warmth and flavour
and sustenance
continue to fill me. She
boiled down a whole chicken.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

I Sit Outside

I sit outside to meditate, my spirits immediately lifting as I look at my sweet, nurturing back yard. It is both enclosed like a shelter, and open to the sky and plethora of trees beyond the fences. I am both protected, and connected to the Vastness.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Saturday, August 4, 2012


I step outside. Overnight
those dry trees on my lawn
have covered themselves
with bright red blooms.