it is not anzac to me

 

 

yesterday the wild came to visit,

strong wind rattled our windows and coaxed beanies and jumpers onto our bodies.

yesterday was cold, and dad kept company with the fire  most of the day.

the wild elementals had come to celebrate  the Birth Day of Jessica May.

 

it is not anzac to me ,

why would it be when instead of the bugle sounds at dawn

my baby splooshed out of my body into the world of form.

 

born 29 years ago  to an aussie dad and a kiwi mum

that is my  contribution to anzac.

 

suddenly the whole vibe of anzac was washed clean and reinvented,

not a day of war but life renewing itself,

not a day of uniforms and medals

not a day of past deeds dusted up in glory lies,

but a day of bold beginnings,

a day to honour a terrific girl become woman

a daughter become mother .

 

a day to share our stories

another day to grow well together.

 

it was a feast ,

of baked chokos and polenta

of sphaghetti marinara

of antipasto and pinot noir

of chocolate cake and tiny  antique candles,

candles saved by my mum over many of my birthdays.

 

Jessica May

a  mistress of commonsense and  cheek

of generousity and take no prisoners

of bloody good fun.

we are all the better for her Presence in our lives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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