frogs scritcheting song
cantor to the big bullfrog
red the setting sun
is soul like an onion
layer upon layer of decaying
acceptances without discernment
dampening the joy of life
till stripped down to
the lovely green shoot
which starts the new life
of humility and love
where is the kitchen knife......
courtesy that union of courage, thoughtfulness and heart
it does not flee in the face of total destruction
or mindless attack
it manifests itself in selfless volunteers
rescuing all creatures
under appalling conditions
war, natural disasters
it manifests itself
in those who gently bind up the wounded
ferry the almost drowning
lifting them up high to safety
dowsing fires in unbelievable heat
comforting those in utter distress
perhaps we need these contrasts
for courtesy to manifest
and redeem the human race......
tonight i went to bed
a tight wound ball of thread
with no beginning to find
the end right in the middle
sleep came sat on the edge
took the ball as sleep will
found the beginning, knitted
quietly all night into
a new hot water bottle cover
pink with the rising sun
early morning kookaburras
laughing, laughing saying such a joke
and so it is.......
a brand new day