Stuck in horrendous traffic on the way to work yesterday, I began to reflect on the irony that, as someone who spends most of my life talking about reading and writing, I have remarkably little time to read or write. This is what those thoughts generated.
Category Archives: Autobiography
The sun shines on Wyndham
The Antarctic wakes us with its morning missive blowing. Swaddled and bubbling, children shiver across the road. Crossing guard, I open my smile, bouncing frozen legs to warm them. To cross the road like a child, I must race and look not to the side. What winter brings will soon be known; the sun stillContinue reading “The sun shines on Wyndham”
“August Sabbath”, and eight years of poetry
Eight years ago today, I began writing poetry. It was a beautiful spring day – the promise of things to come. But, as is so often the case at the end of a Melbourne winter, the spring was fragile. Cool weather could return at any moment and snap up the new growth. I was aboutContinue reading ““August Sabbath”, and eight years of poetry”
From Ashes: No glitch
No glitch in the creation plan and yet my mind skips and repeats over old tracks as though, as though in early days a scratch a fleck of dust crept in, crept in, upset the balance of it all. With every beat the tension in these ancient grooves – this wax – threatens now toContinue reading “From Ashes: No glitch”
Home
One of the stranger questions for me to be asked is, “Where do you come from?” Depending on which part of my semi-nomadic childhood is being engaged at the time, answers to that question can vary greatly. Do I say: Ballarat, where I was born, southern Queensland, where I went to Primary School, West Gippsland,Continue reading “Home”
The Week of Cherry Blossoms
Today is something of an anniversary for me. Seven years ago, on this day, I wrote my first adult poem. I remember this because it was the last day of winter, and unusually warm. The poem was about a new crush after a long relationship had ended. I’m sure it would be highly embarrassing toContinue reading “The Week of Cherry Blossoms”
Broken Discipline
I am beginning a series of studies in my church home group about spiritual discipline, working with Richard Foster’s classic book, Celebration of Discipline. To begin the series, I have written a short reflection on what spiritual discipline has meant to me over the past couple of years since a challenging short-term mission stint inContinue reading “Broken Discipline”
Clouds and Crowns No.7
No longer sure that clouds say what is true, I look upon the crown of golden days And see instead a stretching, open haze, A space which does not shift for signs of You. Eternity confuses me; I view The openness of time with halting gaze, A rupturing of boundaries, blinding daze, The fear ofContinue reading “Clouds and Crowns No.7”
Clouds and Crowns No.6
And I am caught by wonders of new birth, Not knowing yet how quickly all things die, Assuming as I run that I can fly, That life springs always out in vibrant mirth. Still all my dreams are equal in their worth; The clouds collect expectant in the sky, With promises and oceans to supply,Continue reading “Clouds and Crowns No.6”
Clouds and Crowns No.5
The overture of forests, dead, remade, Whispers pianissimo through leaves. Although the burnt-out wilderness still grieves And ashen dust hangs densely in the shade, The smallest stems of green, a micro-glade, Peek out through fire-black trunks in smoky breeze, The first-fruits of our chlorophyll reprieves, The peaceful eye after the storm is paid. All thisContinue reading “Clouds and Crowns No.5”
The Consolations of Writing 