Ah! Life! What can it possibly mean, my friend?
Tell me, before I off to Heaven send.
For wondering, tho' it furrows deep my brow,
At least it is some means of time to spend.

So many questions seem no answers for,
No matter how I pound upon the door,
The doorman may be deaf, or perhaps the lack
Of a secret password missed he must deplore.

An 'Open Sesame' to Aladdin's cave,
Would give me all the answers that I crave,
For answers must be there, this much I know,
Or the fabric of the Universe is betrayed.

So many of us stand in similar plight,
Poets and philosophers day and night,
Waiting with an empty cup in hand,
Pleading - "Fill my cup and give my mind respite."

But knowledge is a trick, it seems to me,
For which 'reduction' is an illusory key,
For if reduced from whole what then is left?
For the whole is where resides the mystery.

I think of Heidegger's 'Being and Time',
A mighty, detailed argument, for mine,
Would discard the answer with the argument,
If it were to be reduced to a single line.

So if we are to know by what Life's meant,
Must journey through its joy and discontent,
For what reduction would do for understanding,
Is reduce the meaning of our Life's content.

That which we've done, our battles won and lost,
When weighed upon Life's ledger as a cost,
What matters then our deeds when all is done,
If into the grave with us our deeds are tossed?

Seagulls,
With their shrill cries,
Sharp beaks,
Judging eyes,
Always on the look-out
For the next morsel.

How versatile they are!
You don't have to be a dead thing
Lying on the beach.

These birds feed on living flesh!

'Tis now we live, and only now, the rest

Is fantasy, or memory at best.

The moment is but a flower of transient beauty,

Which colours and scents our world without behest.



So caught was I in daily stress and strife,

The years passed by their loss unfelt, nor grief,

Unnoticed moment's petals dropped and died.

Would think I'd been asleep for all my life.



And then a window opened in my mind,

Had always been there veiled by a blind,

I woke! That instant all came clear at last.

One moment left my many years behind.



A single step, a crack! All fell away.

Above a foaming torrent I hung that day,

My desperate fingers slowly losing grip,

Mere moments left to live, no time to pray.



But strange! I 'found myself', while dangling there,

Cold sweat of terror on the mountain air,

To a rotten footbridge clinging in great fear,

Heart beating hard soul facing Death's despair.



A swift glance down, I trembled at the sight,

The chasm fell sheer each side in rocky might,

And far below a wild and rocky river,

All I could do was cling. Think of my plight!



O fear that had me shaking hand and knee,

At the sight of my appalling destiny,

How was it that this bridge so fragile now,

When for so long had seemed so strong to me?



Truth to tell it was a shock to know,

The neglected bridge had become decrepit so,

It's timbers cracked and missing many treads,

Nothing to save me from the rocks below.



And so I hung above the abyss dread,

Unable to take a further step ahead,

It surely is man's fate to finally fall,

A broken body in Death's dismal bed.



For do we ever reach the farther shore,

Without we fall into Death's waiting maw?

That oblivion awaits us all is Life's predict,

How then make meaning of the final door?



For what is Life but a bridge across a canyon,

The way we cross it thus we measure man.

So Reader, learn from my life's fatal flaw,

Take Death's awareness as your life-companion.



His presence in your life should you embrace,

Remembered well the realities you face,

Thus will stay alive your sharpened senses,

And make full meaning of your life's essay.



Ensure you keep in mind the dread Abyss,

Not to live your life in full would be remiss,

Live well the precious moments of each day.

Be sure to smell each flower along your Way.

Skin as white as snow,

Lips and cheeks as red as blood,

Her raven-black hair.



Two become parents

Because a girl-child arrives,

And changes their lives.



No mirror will show

How children create parents

And problems for all.

But Narcissus knows
That mirrors only show us
What’s empty inside.

Lives come to impasse.

And the child must find herself,

Alone in the woods.



The lonely hunter,

Comes to rescue the princess,

And becomes her prince.



Red blood on the snow,

****** innocence gone,

Desire fulfilled.



Two become parents

Because a girl-child arrives,

And changes their lives.



Skin as white as snow,

Lips and cheeks as red as blood,

Her raven-black hair.

In the morning light,

When the air is still,

Before the noises of the day

Intrude upon the mind,

A certain clarity 

Becomes a possibility,

When in moments of repose,

One can turn inside

To find deeper moods, 

Both beautiful and darker spaces, 

Places of uncertainty,

Tinged thus with anxiety,

As if, when walking in wild hills,

One comes across a vantage point,

A jutting outcrop of rock,

Overhanging a plunging valley,

And standing there alone,

One's consciousness sinks into the abyss,

Its tumbled sea of wooded slopes, 

Above which rise rugged pinnacles

Wreathed round with mountain mist.



Across a vault so vast, 

A tiny bird,

Caught in a ray of sunshine,

Seems to hang and float,

As might a dust-mote,

In a beam of tinted light,

Streaming down 

Into the transept of a great cathedral,

Illuminating the space

With divine renown, 

A sacred sense of depth,

With perspective so beyond 

All human understanding,

As to still one's breath

And overwhelm the viewer

With a sense sublime,

So near the dread of death.



Pondering thus, 

In awe,

I follow with my eyes 

The rugged forest,

Sweeping steeply down
Towards the valley-floor,

Those silent soundings

Somewhere out of sight, 

Which seem to promise 

More than I can see,

Invoking a sense of mystery

Of something hidden 

In the unseen depths below, 

And a sense again,

Of something closer still,

An abiding presence 

Of a far more intimate kind,

Calling me downward,

And, in my mind,

I begin to descend, 

Over great granite boulders,

Hand-holds found on branches, 

Offered here and there

In the tumble of mighty rocks

By trees clinging to crevices between,

Bending as they take my weight,

Shaking rustling leaves,

As I climb downward carefully,

Hand over hand,

With lack of sureness,

And fear of a poor foothold,

A slide of rock, a slip, 

A fatal fall,

Into the abyss.



At last when I have scrambled down

The wild and rough escarpment,

I stop to catch my breath,

Beneath the mass of rock,

The titanic building blocks

Of this timeless landscape,

I find the ancient ground gives way 

To a less demanding gradient, 

And my breathing comes more easily

Descending now less dangerously, 

My shoulders brushed 

By lighter leafy foliage, 

As I step down through dense bush,

Pushing back branches from my face,

Sliding over fallen trees,

And make my way down,

Through thigh-high bracken,

Between the trunks of mighty 

Mountain eucalypts,

Those giants marching silently

Down to the valley floor.



Down here the air is cooler,

And I hear a distant murmur, 

Not of mountain breezes 

Sighing in the tops of trees,

But rather the enticing sound 

Of running water, 

Coming from an unseen place,

Nearby, waiting to be found

In this shadowed peaceful realm,

Where sunlight touches softly,

Catching the frond of a fern,

Shining on smooth white boughs,

And I go further down and in,

Until the watery bell-clear sound

Seems all around, 

And reflected light catches my eye,

Between the trees and foliage,

Until eventually 
I step out into a clearing

An open space

Where there is a great flat rock,

Around which a shallow creek flows

Over a bed of white stones, 

And two great straight trees

Stand like sentinels, 

Guardians of this lovely glade, 

Water gurgling around and below 

Their gnarled roots built like buttresses.



Here I stand in breathless silence, 

Marvelling at the light

Filtering down

Through the towering trees

And floating fronds of tree-ferns

High above me,

Its soft and golden luminosity

Bringing a sense of mystery, 

And the grandeur of stillness 

To this peaceful place,

Where water trickles soothingly.


And as the beauty of this vale

Fills my mind with thoughts

Of Nature's splendour,

I sense the presence

Of that one,
I far too easily forget,
Who abides here in this valley,

Who appears

Unbidden in my dreams,

And whose steady gaze

Has always brought me back

To deep reflection,

For she is my mirror,

Soul, and centre of my being,

And I sense her standing 

Close beside me

By the running stream,

Arms outstretched to welcome me

To our place of blissful unity,

Where I will never be alone,

For she is ever-present here,

Always awaiting my descent,

My return to what is home, 

So felt with awe and gratitude,

Our lovely Vale of Solitude.

From the hill where we live,
We noticed the sea changing,
Growing darker by the day,
And then realised it was rising.

Was it the tide? we asked,
But no-one knew,
And the sea continued to darken,
And continued to rise.

Then one morning,
Opening the front door,
We found the sea
Lapping at our doorstep,

It had covered all the houses,
The roads and the trees.
From our doorstep to the horizon
Stretched the sea.

It was like it had always been there
And we had not noticed it before,
It’s surface smooth and unbroken,
Dark as night.

Nothing was to be heard,
No seagull’s shrieking.
People’s cries for help
Must have been swallowed by the night.

There was only the dark sea,
And silence.
And we, standing at its edge,
Waiting.

It was recommended
as a place to go alone…

an iron staircase…
spirals downwards
into the gloom.
                                                      
At the lowest step, I pause…

…echoes of my footsteps
…fading…

then nothing
but the silent treads
that brought me down

…and my heavy heart-beat.

I might have expected this…
I have arrived at the basement,
and there is no-one here…

Where is the artist,
dressed in black?

This is his gallery
but the walls are blank
… there are no pictures…
everything has gone

…except for the familiar armchair.

I can do nothing
but slump down into it …