lifting our faces to sky rain and lightning

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Black swamp wallaby pauses
ears twitch head turns.
what do you observe my friend?
what approaches ?
standing on tippy toes it snavels the bird seed.

A virus disrupts the world
spreads its vaporous claim over all
grinding the machine to a halt.

Here in the forest
black trunks sprout green leaves
cutty grasses vines ferns pokeroot and tiny tree seedlings
thicken and swell over charcoal ground,
great emptiness where once life thrived.

Every day demands my attention in a new way.
how easy life was before new years eve
when the forest was vibrant fecund bustling with lives,
snorting weaving nesting whistling burrowing plodding napping bounding chortling
and I;
I was able to wallow in their field of busyness
heart immersed in their stories
delighting in their families.

They were my narrative my kin my foundation
post fire I am stripped raw with grief,
heart sore for all that is lost-
peppermint sheoak bush cherry and ancient angophoras
wrens honeyeaters red neck wallabies…

I follow fox ,why are you barking ?
where are you going?
your family are they alright?
I worry over baits and guns.
hello sleepytime bush
you have returned
so many medicines lost
so many lives.

Still, burrows are being dug
nesting sites explored,
goanna wombat skink turtle bandicoot echidna come to tell me they are here.
I am grateful many kin have survived and our work continues,
greeting the sun
kissing the earth
lifting our faces to sky rain and lightning
shivering shaking twitching singing grumbling snoring blinking
dancing life on earth.

I am the less for this tragedy
yet I have to be greater,
to keep singing their Being
honouring their Song
their return after fire.

The virus is unmaking our world
yet unmaking has a most worthy purpose,
every hand; every knitter sewer hat maker artist sculptor cook understands
that there are times when we have to undo and re make.
Sometimes the mistake turns out to be a blessing showing us a better way .

In the early lockdown (which passed unnoticed in the forest)
a friend talked of how eerie it was to hear no traffic,
the air was clearer and birdsong sweeter.
‘I think I hear the Earths heartbeat’, she said.

This could be hope full
and gave me pause to imagine,
perhaps people were tuning in to a deeper resonance
of earth and heart …….
earthearthearthearthearthearthearth

.