The society

in which I live

has propagated a myth,

a myth so powerful

that fortunes, industries,

even countries

have risen and fallen

based upon its premise

of solitary freedom.

‘I am free to do as I choose’

The counterbalance

of responsibilities

were ignored, abhorred or forgotten

in the headlong plunge.

Along comes a pandemic

that proves

that my actions always

affect others.

Yet, despite two years

of lockdowns,

disruptions and disconnection,

the myth

has deep roots,

so facts that ‘I do not believe’

continue to be ignored.

Humanity has been given

a golden opportunity

to grasp the power

of our connection

in community

where we are each held,

strengthened and loved

to be all that we can be.

Then we can prove

the dictum:

‘we are each angels

with one wing

and it is only when

we embrace each other

that we can fly’.

What of the myth?

Do not think it will just disappear.

We each have a responsibility

to denounce it,

to live its converse,

showing the myth to be

the destructive lie

that it is.


As I open the front door

I’m greeted by

A swathe of colour

In the sky.

The morning artisan

At work again.

The further from my home

The more colour I can see.

The contrast in light and colour 

Gives texture to the cloud

As aerial canvas.

But no words nor photos 

Capture how it feels.

I say thanks

And this gift

Opens me to accept the day.


Sun streams

sharing its warmth.

Breeze takes the edge off.

Weeping cherry

is in full bloom

attracting the attention

from lots of bees.

Simple balm for my soul


The idea of being outside:

warm day, blue skies,

seems very attractive.

The reality of being outside

which includes gale-force winds

sucks the fun out of the idea.

It feels like a kind of


for ‘where we are’

with the pandemic.

Trying to do the right thing

but there is a big gap

between idea and reality.



But allowing myself

to stay


doesn’t help me.

So I look out, up and around –

and that helps.

For Maureen


I visit Maureen in hospital

a shell

of what she was;



Yet, who she is:

a gentle, loving person

is still present.

Her husband and children echo,

lovingly keeping watch.

Testimony to love

fostered over decades.

Our conversation

was filled with truth and love,

grace and blessing.

This was no time

for empty or idle chatter.

My tears were shed

at a friend’s imminent passing,


Grief does not only come at the end.


Time is about perception.

It speeds past.

It drags.

The moments we want

to hold on to

slip through our fingers –

so they must be savoured.

What about lockdown?

So much seems to happen

in a day

and yet it is also


Marking time?

The magpie warbling at 1am

also seems out of sync.

Best to do what you can

to relish and delight

in the little things

so that you can glimpse

their true worth,

gazing with the loving eyes

of the creator.

Eyes, heart, mind

Seagull soars through the air


amidst city buildings.

The geometry is wrong:

natural grace

amidst human control.

The seagull captivates me

because of its ‘outofplaceness’,

reminding me of a greater order.

Another glimpse into that order:

watching the wind

whipping the tree

making it look mobile,

almost pulsating.

‘It’s only air’,

yet so vital in the grand scheme.

Open my eyes

Open my heart

Open my mind

and truly see

God’s handiwork



Saturday afternoon,

mid-winter, during lockdown.

It is easy

to feel ‘stuck’,

but I try

to pay attention

to the details.

As I stand on the back porch

the sun actually

has some warmth.

The music I’m listening to

energises and buoys me.

Taking notice

of the everyday beauty

in the sea

in the sky

in the flowers

in the people

around me.

Such is wholeness

and peace.


Sunshine streams down

Generous and unexpected 

On this winter’s day. 

Grace, too,

As I wrestle

With my brother’s passing. 

This person

Who has been

A constant in my life.

Constant too

has been his pain

Due to cancer.

Sad at his passing,

But I’m also relieved. 

A man of contradictions. 

Who isn’t?

Most of my adult life

I saw the positive  

As he cared for others

Whether as a grandfather

Doling out ‘doughnuts and pink milk’

As a solicitor for those in need

Or a football club stalwart.

His razor sharp intelligence

Led to insightful

And occasionally acerbic comments

As well as many smiles from me

As he named a truth.

Living in Melbourne for 40 years

Has meant most of our relationship

Has been by phone.

Near the end I sent him a message

That included:

‘I am not with you but I am with you.’

In my memories and my heart,

I pray that the converse

Is also true.


I can feel

their goodness

I am overcome

being a witness

to care for others

to those who build connection

those who encourage

those who support.

These words

seem an empty vessel

to carry the full import

not just of my emotion

but of my senses.

This goodness captures me

buoys me

despite more COVID news

This human goodness


shining its light

for those with eyes to see,

lighting a path to follow.