After the Storm

Olive skin

Death has lightened me toward you now

Your olive bound skin

Is fading

Beneath the grove I have formed for you

Your strong man hands

Are gripping still – this childhood grasp

Softer - now that you have gone

Here  

More often than you could before

Death has lightened me toward you now

And showed her soft face again

Gentled your accent

Quietened your unsettling

Warmed your gaze

She has given her kindness to me

And left the others bruised

Bent backward and wondering

Those infant hands reached for you as they

Lowered you down

Eyes like a bloodline – beating hard

To raise you back up again

They stumbled you know – let you slip

You would have laughed

Knowing

With the sport, and the dance and the strength of the trade

You would never have let that happen

We both sit, he and I, with the gifts

Your fathering gave  

Bright and terrible and tremendous

Rest them in our palms

Fire them up

Switch them off

Nurture them

Tending to that Olive Grove

That lies

With you

For you

Oceans away

Right here

Yes. I have lightened toward you

Now that you are gone

Again

I can't get past this song....

It's got a grip



.... and I keep coming back to it. Again and again.

And again

Rinydjirinydjimirri

I came across The Daring Book for Girls - Australian Edition in our local library.

I'd seen it around in book shops. You know - great title - textured cover.... but hadn't picked it up.

Anyway - I was having a flick through and was delighted to see quite a few references to Australian Aboriginal culture.

And Woman Explorers, Inventors, Scientists, Olympians - and Queens of the Ancient worlds.

I was relieved that it's not overflowing with recipes for gingerbread men and DIY fairy-wings.

It's varied and informative and re-freshing.

But I'm not here to give book reviews... I just wanted to share something lovely I learned when I was having a wander through.

Yolnu is the language spoken by the people of Arnham Land. And this language has words that English doesn't..... and it's beautiful!

Rinydjirinydjmirri - Place in the distance scarcely visible to through the rain

Misty Morning Giclee

Barawun - Rays of sunlight before sunrise

Marrawana - To make noise like a sail in the wind

Mul'mulmirriyirri - To be covered by a cloud

Sleepwalker

Dududu - happy singsong when young people are taught to dance...........

And I especially like this one!

Gumurr-dharrwa - Taking more than one side in an arguement

Visual

I am loving spending time at Pinterest at the moment.

Discovering the stunning works of some very talented people.

And remembering the power of the visual image.

La Chambre Rose - Xipan

Felix Vallotton, La Iiseuse, 1922

Flight

How good. How very very good it would be - to Just Take Flight - on the odd occasion!

I can't fly.... Yet.

So for now.....

I think I might start wearing roses in my hair!

Image source unknown - found on Pinterest.
Words: Laugh Clown Laugh, Herbert Brenon, 1928

Hair

The biggest of the littles asked for her hair to be cut.
The hair that has never seen a blade and has been with her from the day she was born.
The ends of those locks stood like shocks on her beautiful little head when she was just days old.

Nearing four it hung as far as her lower back.
Was always a talking point. Hurt her at bath time.

I twisted it - held my breath - and sliced it away.

We were never interested in cutting it. Cutting seemed to presume styling - of some sort.
Let the childhood last.

She loves her new hair. Her easy to brush, easy to wash, not-talking point hair.
Her own big-girl-decision hair.

We're learning to.

The Book Thief

I'm reading The Book Thief

I read it on the train - on the way to work - once a week.
Working has been good for me. After almost 4 years of focusing entirely on the littles in the family - I have returned to the world of paid work (paid = $. not reward).

Oh the rewards I experience from those littles.
The ferocious love felt and given.
The music of sibling-bonded-laughter.
The wonder coloured world they have painted for us.

And OH the challenges.
...... oh....... the......... challenges!

So. It is with great honesty that I say.....  I rather enjoy my time travelling to and from work - that one day in my week.

On that one day I am consumed by the words offered by Marcus Zusak in his novel 'The Book Thief'.


It is devastating and stunning. It bends me backwards and my heart in-on-itself.
It rings in my ears all day. And calls for me during the week.

It makes me cry on the train. It urges me to call out to everyone around me and bring them into it.
"Can you see?!!! Can you see what is going on in here??"

It is narrated by Death. He / She is quite a poet actually. And at times a comic.
Always all-seeing.

I love my one-day-a-week with the book thief!

Perhaps you too have read it?