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easter bilby thinking about it

the small mammals extinctions investigations team SMEIT

observed gravely the ebb of the meaty little marsupialia

whose receding horizons repeated the retreating edge

of the two million year old oceans

and the shape of my argument

and the fading interface of conversation

between eagle

predator

and  bilby

prey

in the new dawning

in the new day

 

and SMEIT cried out across the broadening celestial beach

a-glitter (as ours are) with galaxies

WAIT! DON’T LEAVE US! PLEASE DON’T GO!

and the small marsupial spirit people said

with their soft human voices

quietly packing their goods

but you’ve killed us all,

you’ve put us in missions in schools in jails

killed the dreaming places

killed the songs

killed the magic metaphysics

killed our souls

we have no magic now

and so we die

our spirits go

home to the stars

to be never reborn in the warm brown

mother beast

country

 of earth

 

and how could anyone explain

the chagrin and remorse

the pity

and the pain

for the pitter patter paws through the summer grass

and the sensitive whiskers in the straw

 

so for the sake of the dying children

and the sorrowing mother of the dying babes

so beautiful eyed so mysterious eyed

they captured bilby by the tail

and hauled him home

and called him divine, equal to a rabbit

and wrapped him all chocolate in gold and silver

with silk and cellophane references

to the astral plane and gt britain’s pagan past

 

and they magicked him whitefella-way

into kid’s playrooms

and they picture-book tjurunga’d him into

soft-toy captivity

(so he felt)

and called him an egg-giver

 

which scared him silly

because he’s not a monotreme

 

through the window into easter

bilby saw the jesus-on-the-cross

every year a jesus-on-the-cross

 

but the stars, the stars

are in mrs bilby’s eyes

and she’s sorry,

she just has to go

 

though the continent shriek

to the pleiades

and erupt with outraged totally articulate

well worth the reading

dot pictures

at the murderers

and raise magic music droning

from all campfire circles

for the dying off of species

the deaths of sentient selves

 

because the massacred martyrs

had gentle philosophies

and the bilby man and the bilby woman

deplore human sacrifice

and they fled.

 

if somebody please would explain to bilby

wtf wuth thet symbl?

the tide may very well return, yes,

if this is a good planet, the tide might turn…

 

so we’re walking them home with love

home from their distant palaces and plains

stitched of star rays sequinned with galaxies

into their magic marsupial mother pouch tunnels

to their blue sky green grass brown earth lives

with their houses and culture and school and technology

brothers and sisters together with us

again at last

earth-born children of star-born spirits

bringing us star spirit virtues

star spirit wisdom

star spirit magic

and the universal call

of love.

egg of my dreaming – a poem

egg of my dreaming spirit

asleep under whose airy wings

cloud downy, softer than love

spread all-wise, all-ways around you

alight with the dazzle of seeing

flashing in lively moments

of glittering meanings memory

passions and principles of play

do you dream my life so vividly

eager to give and be given to

eager to sing and be sung to

eager to know and be known?

egg of my dreaming spirit

under whose wide wings do you dream me,

wings cloud downy, softer than love

spread all-wise, all-ways around me?

elixir, a poem

elixir

deep in the sacred centre of my genesis
the root of my craeb the fountain of my spirit
the loud-crying stone of my validation
the spark of my flame’s ignition
there are my many destinies, infinite and eternal like seeds

sometimes I feel I could reach
through the marbled liquid layers of my years
to the first cry of my life
the first beat of my foetal heart,
the wild radiant moment of the fusion of gametes
the weaving of worlds in the twist of their nwyfre

and in the palm of my hand,
cherish, cradle and nurture the seed,
sheltering the incubation of my own genesis
in the union of the many sainted angels
whose lives have spun the fibres of my being.

when I feel around the pain and the joy of my life
the cradling palm, perhaps the sweet elixir
that entrances me anew to life’s enchantment
drips after all from the full voluptuous fruits
of a ripe and radiant destiny yet to be conceived

and still I follow its gleam, rapt in a ray of in hope.

turtles all the way – er – in.


 Image

 

i’ve listened to the scientists and this is my reply;

respectfully i must advise, we don’t see eye to eye.

my animistic atoms making predetermined shapes,

mechanically intending everything from stars to apes,

just flout the simple sanity of your established science

and seem to treat the ‘evidence’ with cavalier defiance.

 

you say that planet earth is really not a living being;

it doesn’t grow or reproduce – going by what you’re seeing.

but eggs and pupae, they don’t grow, nor do they reproduce

and who knows what this earth will do when we’re no further use?

it goes beyond the evidence to say: ‘it is alive’,

but just as much to say: ‘it’s not’, however you contrive.

 

astronomers with bated breath observe that stars evolve.

they explicate the physics in equations that they solve.

the time-scale is enormous, so we shouldn’t judge too soon –

it won’t be long before our genes ‘inseminate’ the moon!

we don’t know how the planets form – we’ve only made a guess

but why assume that they are lacking sexual prowess?

 

some scientists talk of termite mounds, made by, but not, biota

suggesting earth’s inanimate: i’m not fazed one iota.

our bones are inorganic things, secreted by our cells,

just like a beetle’s carapace, or nautiluses’ shells.

our sial, like a carapace, protects the inner flows

that roil so metabolically; and life upon it grows!

 

 

another speaks of darwin, in defence of whom she says

all creatures are accounted for, all qualities and traits.

that gives me pause until i see that yes! she’s partly right –

continuum from go to whoa – a brilliant, brave insight!

if sentimental purpose crafts the atoms in a star

why not what’s in big bangs themselves? that isn’t so bizarre!

 

my viewpoint’s still post-modern (not yet moved to what comes next)

but I still maintain that matter should be seen in terms of ‘text’

with networks just like world-wide-webs jam-packed with brawling memes

(or, since my term’s more general, perhaps we’ll call them  ‘emes’,

a healthy little suffix that can serve us as a word)

a ‘textrichness’, articulate? that isn’t so absurd.

 

genes craft all traits of plants and beasts and do so from within.

but processes are just as smart within an atom’s skin.

so each big bang, when first it starts to outwardly explode

is explicating latent text according to a code.

and now that’s said, it looks to me so simple and so plain –

i s’pose it does to you, too, so i’ve no need to explain.

 

to sum up, with a metaphor: a gene is hawking’s turtle

sustained by inner turtles (now, look deep – try not to hurtle

precipitately inward) with each subatomic one

sustained by other inner ones, and when all’s said and done

this turtle soup inside a gene can ‘quark’ ad infinitum.

it’s turtles, going in not down! come on! they’re there! why fight ’em?

australia: consecration of the land – a poem

they came in fleets of sailing ships,

some free, but most in chains.

they built their towns and cleared their fields

upon these fertile plains.

 

and they explored on foot, on horse,

on camel, and by sea,

and found the land already home

to people proud and free.

 

a people with an ancient law

as old as stars above. . .

with trepidation now they watched

these men devoid of love.

 

they saw the shackled convict slaves

flogged half to death and worse.

they heard their howls of agony,

they heard the tyrants’ curse.

 

and in their time they too succumbed

defeated by the gun –

their spears could not defend them so

they had too turn and run.

 

the trees and mountains saw it all,

the wild bush creatures too,

koala, emu, terrapin,

snake, crow and kangaroo.

 

and as the land had always done

it held its magic rites,

communing with the dreamtime stars

through all the fear-filled nights.

 

they gathered like a zodiac

round sacred uluru,

and talked and planned and danced and sang

and made strong magic, too.

 

they clapped and chanted for their laws

of gentleness and peace

to put an end to slavery

and give the slaves release.

 

they brought down law on all of us

its spirit true and strong

for justice and equality,

cruel slavery is wrong!

 

for in this deep and timeless land

of landscapes harsh and wild

there is a sacred promise made

to every newborn child

 

for every child’s a universe

ablaze with living stars,

within this law of sacredness

we’re all great avatars.

 

we humans need good lives, safe homes,

our children cared for too,

health, freedom, power, a voice for all,

not only for the few.

 

the beasts are many and the plants

are cosmic dreamings, yes,

our planet lives and feels her lands

reacting to the stress

 

this law comes down upon us all,

unspoken, yet well-known –

this star-blessed earth must cherished be

it isn’t just our own.

the people of the earth

in the chaos of deep space

we were dust

in the young oceans of the earth

we were fish

in ancient forest trees, as apes

we flew like birds

and then:

together in the firelight

to the beat of shaman drums

and the lilt of spell-binding flutes

we were becoming

the peoples of the earth.

 we learnt to hunt

and thus intertwined our lives

with the lives of wild beasts

 we learnt to build

and we are the temple stones

the trustworthy bridge

 we learnt to weave

and we are the woven threads,

the fabric firm and good.

we learned to farm

and we are the ripening grain

and the healing herbs

we learned to sail

and we are the unknown lands,

the wandering tides.

we learned to fight

and we are the battles the wars

and the peace process.

we learned to love

and we are the awesome power of love

 and the gentleness.

no two alike, so myriad,

long ages peopled with bright spirits

animating matter from within.

 like the rays of the sun

we began as one

containing within us

the essence of all.

we bred and diversified – behold the bright rainbow

from jet black to pure white

and all colours in between

the red and the brown and the golden

 from dwarves to giants

we are all shapes and sizes

and in all the visible and invisible worlds

past present and future

we are myriad

and yet still one species

polyune

broad is the rainbow

displaying all colours and kinds

we are the peoples of the earth,

blending with the myriad species

in the rainbow of the manifestation of life.

let no harm come to us

let no harm come through us.

may the lovingness of life nurture us

may the truth shine bright within us

and may we find noble destinies worthy of us all.

life and death of a druid:

deep magic drew me

from the all generating chaos into the forms and fantasies of the planetary drama to pit my greed and rage against cruel rocks of denial

i piled them rock upon rock i built a high tower i saw all the way to the rising sun and vistas away to the sea and the green forest closed round my tower and fed me with fruits and much venison

the stately sharing kindness of trees nurtured my happiness the brambles throve around my door the fruit trees followed me home herbs sprang up all a-buzz with bees and the honey ran down my walls

by a sparkling stream i cut a reed and piped for the birds and the fishes and flocks and i sheltered them among shady trees and i wove my garments of their fragrant locks

my hard iron ax cut deep i felled great trees great forest gods i slew i made fine halls strong furniture and ships carriages firewood and fence posts cleared the land.

and gathered into my barn the annual feast of fruit and grain and all the bounteous gifts of autumn in a land of sun and showers and pleasant breezes singing in the hay

and still i plundered nests among the stubble found late eggs to add to my winter store and plump nestlings rabbits hares and more

and acorns in the forest falling leaves revealed the clustering nuts in forest glades i cut my stalwart staff to knock them down i filled my sack with hazel chestnut walnuts bulging full

my cellar stocked i built my winter hearth which purred for me all winter while the land slept under snow stout barrels slowly emptying supplied me all i needed till the spring

i filled my hours with loving labour cobbled my boots smoothed to velvet softness skins of deer and sheep made saddles harnesses and parchment too

the cherishing richness and the generous habits of loving nurture into which i came questing as a soul deva dreaming established themselves in me even while i smiled and basked in the smiling of the sky

and when in my sleep i dropped like a ripe fruit from the tree of my life of my ancient lineage my godhead i saw the deep magic drawing from chaos into the drama of life the outrageous souls

into the circle of forest calm

and i cherish them all all deep in my all-knowing chaos i cherish them all