Awkward and lanky,

not a boy and not yet a man.

Youth, litheness; potential

and yet, still teachable.

My tent pegs expand,
As I ride.
Wind glides over my skin,
Fear has no place to hide.

A foreigner in my childhood town,
Obstacles abound; pride.
But I don't give in,
I ride. Troubles subside.

I wake,

To Heaven’s tears

Dripping down...

Their gentle potter-patter

Kiss the earth--

God’s promises:

To make,

All things new again;

Right.

Live, right now,
You're awake,
And healing.
Everyday.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live now!

You're alive__
And living,
Grab it,
Embrace it,
Relish all things.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live now!

Don't waste time,
Dwelling on the past,
When you weren't perfect;
They were wasted worries,
They added no life,
But subtracted,
From the promises of pure possibilities.
Live now!

The leaves change colour all the time,
All the time, all the time.
The leaves change, so live now!

Live now!
And not in the future,
When you're a mother,
Lover, poet and peaceful.
Live now!

Night hung in the heat.
Naked sleep offered no relief.
Even as morning creeps
rain tries to poke holes
in the heavy air,
but only a ‘dust devil’
is accomplished!

We live a borrowed life,
But in the day-to-day
We forget,
Driving ourselves ragged,
Leading to regret...

Remember the trappings of this world —
How can we accept,
What matters most.

Reckless abandonment;
Wild love, sunshine stretched out
Overall, no monthly contracts,
Uninhibited; so we can be.

And the train pulls out
Of the station,
Taking travellers forward
And leaving others behind.

Depending on the time
Of the day,
This act is done
With little to no sound.

Like a silent movie,
Especially the cool of the morn.
Where are we all going;
Where are we all bound?

Tic tok;
Seconds, turn into
minutes, stock
up hours through
days,
months, blur into
years.
I have been given life.
Good, bad, joys and tears,
Everything; strife.
Tic Tok,
Strikes the clock of time;
Precious moments
are thus mine.
Tic Tok.

"What's your name?"
Rebekah Halle ***
"D.O.B?"
13 November 1XXX
"What are you here for today?:
Eye surgery
'Okay, you're going to feel a freeze go through your veins now --
and then start to feel very sleepy..."
.
.
.
I wake to....
Beep,
Beep, beep
Buzz the machines
Whee, whoosh, voodoo
Whirl goes the blood pressure machine
knock, knock on the door
The nurses peer into check,
then
Silence, for a sec.
.
.
Beep,
Beep, beep
.
And then…
Knock, knock, knock
"Your eyes are looking great,
I'll come back in the morning," Dr Kowal says.
.
.
.
Beep
Beep, Beep, Beep
I sleep...
.
And then…
Knock, knock, knock
“Do you want your dinner now?!”
Inquires the hospitality staff.
.
.
Darkness strangles light
Again nurses wheel in their trollies…
Volumous voices viscerate silence
All In
the hospital room.

Do not fear heartbreak!
What else is a heart for?
Love; risk; triumphs and mistakes
Are to be embraced, because
We become what we love.
We are not singular objects,
But connected beings, created from above.
Our journey is to witness,
People and things throughout the ages.

Connectivity drives us, compels us forward,
Technology, used unwisely, is the dark king of this age; that proclaims hope in wires connected underground and
Invisible signals shoot through the air, trying to share signs that we care, but
Ultimately, it severs us from reality and each other over there: digital Babylon.
Heads down, thoughts inward,
We don’t see the lost on the street,
We don’t see the lady lying in pain, covered in shame, trying to re-cover herself and start over again,
But, effortlessly, we switch off from that kid searching our eyes that he matters,
When we keep looking at ourselves, our next selfie: selfie addicts!
If we don’t post our newest vain attempt to connect, we turn to other drugs to numb the pain,
That our brain is craving to solve;
The receptivity issue.
So we need to switch off to switch on again to our indelible source of
Connection with real life within and with others out,
Who says spirituality doesn’t matter: it’s not for this day and age,
It divides and fuels us with rage,
But it does!
It is,
And it is to come.
Connection to the forever dimension, the reason for the ascension to
Reconnect us back to the truth again.

Someone whom you can trust
And depend,
Someone whom you will love
Until the very end.

One step at a time, don’t run ahead or you’ll miss that step?
Contradictions, paradoxes,
we live in a world of being so exposed
But yet, we are all still so hidden,
To ourselves, and to each other.
Trying to predict the future is prized,
Yet, it’s such a cowardly act.
One step at a time is bravery undervalued:
It doesn’t win awards, but you win yourself.

Opportunity after opportunity,
some could say leads to discontinuity
Or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty, surely, will come,
But we can spark that with
originality?!
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibilities.
Imagine the ingenuity!

Suppression and revelation,
two entwined masters of destiny?

Right and wrong.
Black and white.
Giving voice to the darkness
Being open to the light.
Uncertain.

I’ve lived my life
Wanting certainty.
I’ve lived my life
unable to handle uncertainty;
Wanting to stay out of strife.

Fear of the terror in the night,
I tried to be the ‘good girl’
Fear of stepping out of place
I worked out the rules
And stuck to them uncertainly.

Lord, you see all things,
Please help me understand.
Lord, you know all things,
Please help me to stand.
Because I crumble in uncertainty.

Confusion reigns,
Doubt appears.
The terror increases,
Inadequacy jeers.
Uncertainty.

Argh! I cry out to you,
Please show me the way,
Lease reveal the truth,
Just as you rested, on that seventh day.
Certainty.

Take a walk with me,
Come, let’s go,
Let’s fly away or bunker down low.
Don’t prepare, let your instincts lead and see.

Do you notice the streetscape?
Or do you look at me?
There’s the trees and the bees, mums and bubs on bended knees,
Plenty of amazing jewels leaving your mouth agape.

Memories fill our hearts with love,
Risky moments, tender moments, 
Slow moments, fast and fun moments,
Lifetime of treasures; mine, that fit like a glove.

We can’t toss them aside,
We can’t escape their joy or pain,
But we can let them be, washed away by rain,
Or liberated by the sun, whatever...don’t hide.

Live in this moment.
Not a moment too soon, or
Too late...act now! You’ll swoon ;p
It may not bring fortune, but atonement?!

Resurgam

Prophecy spoke full healing,
I believed it to be in this world;
But alas, I conclude now, with deeper understanding,
It shouldn't be so, but done in the new world
What lies within, surpassing time: everlasting.

Opportunity after opportunity
some could say leads to discontinuity
or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty surely will come
But we can spark that with
originality?
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibility.
Imagine the ingenuity!

Insects sing their lullaby,
drawing you into night's cry;
It seems harmless from afar,
But in the thick, no skin's w'out mark.

I was really sick
But not anymore.
I'm just tired,
Tired of playing small.
I don't know how to be
Confident
But that's all I wish for.
I keep trying,
And trying,
But I stumble back
And fall.
How can I change?
And stand tall,
Be not shameful
But
Live fully and give it my all!

Rhythms,
Unashamed sounds,
Playing to the beat of their internal drum,
No fear of questioning,
But unleashing originality as it comes.

I long to lie down,
Where all the wild flowers grow;
Their soft embrace makes my sleep sound,
But their vivid colours evoke life within now —

I have a seat at the table,
I will feast til I'm unable!

Forge my faith in the furnace of loving fury,
That I may be purified for You —

May my burning beauty be a beacon,
And more of Your love ensues.

Haste not,
Let beauty brew
and bubble,
becoming more thorough
through the rubble.

You can stop,
turn everything off
And be still.
Enjoy the peace;
It’s been foreign for far too long.
Come back to me,
and be still.

Embrace the fragile, fresh air,
skin up on edge, hairs
raised in defence and be still.
Drink the fresh air deeply,
never been breathed in by me,
by someone else, but not me,
so be still.

My birthday song
was sung by the birds this morn,
they greeted me
with kisses from Heaven.
Their gleeful singalong
bounced me out of bed headlong,
a spring in my step,
despite being age-strong,
I look forward
to celebrations all day long.
Grateful to be alive,
to witness this very day!

one year on.

I feel hungover,
Ugly and fat.
(It might be
that I drank last night),
But it is more likely
That's because of
Gluttony.
I'm not chasing
Anything, anyone, anymore.
There's no anxiety,
Is it depression?!
What is this unknown place?
I know to be present,
Which elevates and calms
These feels,
So I'll sit and watch:
The butterflies and bees,
Release this heavy
state till free,
And embrace these sensations
just now, of me.

Baths outside --
It's a country thing...

After a hard day’s work
of rounding up the cattle,
fixing fences fast and
grounding the grass, you’ll mantle
the horses and red-hot stamp them...

You may break for brunch:
coffee (necessary) and a bite to eat,
But then it’s back on your feet.
More jobs to greet..

Then, when the sun starts setting,
slipping behind the slopes, staged in the set background,
as it's done on 'McLeod's Daughter's' and ‘Yellowstone’ —
You throw off your clothes and get right in
to the outside bath,
And soak off the grime from your worn out bones.

Sip a cold beer, or shot a wild whiskey, with relieving cheer!
"ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

We miss take many steps, opportunities and decisions,
All throughout our day,
Shall we see them as demon disasters? Or hidden
Gems along the way?
Even today, mistakes were made,
And regrouping, re-evaluating and redirecting were essential, I’d say.
If I decide they were wrong and a waste,
I’d be in a spin, and Miss Perfectionist would get a wealthy pay.
But, if I choose, they could instead be wisdom pearls,
In which to collect and treasure where they lay.
Then I could re-take, learn and grow,
And I’d stay, not run away, enjoy and play.

My walk to freedom;
There is no tomorrow.
Yesterday is gone.
There is only here, now.
Let the forest speak:
The mountains and the water,
Hear their voices, they become
pathways to wholeness, giving you
Freedom in thought.

I cannot be everything to everyone!
I do not want to be everything to everyone!
I am not going to be everything to everyone,
because in the end, I will be nothing to everyone, and
I won't be me.

Rome wasn't built in a day;
Life isn't a task to be ’completed’
Puzzles are to be enjoyed,
Complexities marvelled at,
One bite-size at a time.

As I de-program to reprogram,
The big picture held
Open-handed, eyes wide, spirit ready, mouth agape to wield
The mysteries deposited, and
The rich tapestry revealed.

I used to live
both in quiet and busy places
of the city.

My first foray into fast living
was in a suburb called “Liberty Grove,”
established for the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games.

What was once a village of athletes
giving their blood, sweat, and tears
for their countries,
and to hear a few cheers,
was now a layer cake of strangers
living the daily grind in drone-like silence —

The scent of the garden,
Left its traces on my hands,
As I danced around pulling weeds
and disposing of them in bands.

I speak to my dry bones today:
"There is more for you to do!" —
Dry bones,
there is more,
much more
Life;
Mistakes to master,
Peccadilloes to pepper,
Idle thoughts to ink through
So that they may align
With Your purpose —

My backyard is like the Garden of Eden;
Where birds flourish freely, so too do lizards and worms.
I find myself opening my doors seemingly, 
to welcome the sounds of nature.
But it's also to entice me out to the heartwarmingly,
tree-lined places where I can hide my faces,
And be one, meekly, at first, then more boldly;
Naked and brazen, absent of hazing,
to sit, listen and write poetry.

Cool autumn day,
Sunny and fresh,
Brimming with possibility.
Seedlings bought,
To be planted and sought,
And plant pellets to feed
the garden, come what may.
Shades of orange peppers on the lawn
Leaves lay scattered, tired and strewn.
To rake or not,
Begs an opportunity.

Your eyes paint a barren landscapes --
But yet, I cannot look away.
They draw me in, deeper --
In a more familiar way.

Maybe

It's because
I see my soul in there,
Or maybe, just maybe,
It's because they free me not to care.

This is life!
Living right now, every win, mistake,
Not heaven.
Don't be afraid, there's give AND take.
You don't have to be perfect!

This is life!
Every high and every ******,
******* low.
Don't be afraid, embrace the gritty;
Experiences that forge your character.

This is life!
The acclaim, blame, shame and every moment, just the same,
Can be refrained and reclaimed
Don't be afraid of happiness
And joy, life's not perfect!

How quickly we’ve been brought down,
On bended knees, crying please,
Stop the disease, we’ll take off the crown,
To our lives; listening to lies, mantras of self-help tease,
Hope beyond now. Clear the mental fog; refocus.

I wrap Your arms of love around me
Warmth fills my heart.
I breathe in deep.
Tears well up, knowing Your intimacy.

Love.
Your eyes are on me.
I am not alone.
I don’t need to struggle,
Because I have Your attention.

But do You have mine?
Please renew my mind,
So I can know the deeper things of You.
Love.

We exist in the world
Of the living;
Living with the ghost of absence —

All the many losses;
We carry them in our breath,
In our bones,
In our eternity of memories
Passed down through generations,
After generation,
After generation —

Losing ourselves
But gaining many losses,
Becoming ghosts of absence —

We have many selves;
there’s the real self and the others behind the masque.
The real self gets pushed aside,
When our alter ego doesn’t want to hide.

Out comes the good girl, Rambo, and the billionaire,
Into the darkness hides shame and despair.
There’s also superwoman, the tech-wizz, and social entrepreneurs,
A shy kid dogged by not enough hides his cares,
Cos if they wore their hearts on their sleeves
They’d get beaten up and find no reprieve.

Is this the way we want to live?
Hiding out, these pressures not wanting to give.
They’re our protective armour in ourselves,
Wanting fame and fortune is not where our true future dwells.

We keep on this armour
because it’s become part of us,
We need to release these selves and
know we’re good enough.

It’s not an instant switch, like the internet promises,
But a slow journey of taking off the personas,
And being ok, with who we are,
reconciling what we say.

Let the little voice deep within,
Look to him, who knew no sin.
Cry out, let him in, and be redeemed.
Re-birthed, and on a journey of being restored.

A healthy reframe:
to be jealous
is acknowledging
longing within,
when we detach
from that ache,
we become bored, disengaged,
angry and spew out apathy.

More complex than Pythagoras;
A bland pallet beckoning discovery, calling intrepid adventurers to see the beauty in the desert.
Causing admiration and repulsion; Frankenstein-esk, forever a mystery.
Days numbered as the hairs on your head; a cold case beset for the archives or a small child screaming “pick me!”?

I am listening to Billie
drop her new album,
Curious to hear, indie,
pop or chill, vulnerable?
Or will it be just another
wannabe?
And as I ponder, my focus
wanders to the bird calls
outside my window,
they are spectacular,
unique and peppery,
shrill and squawky
and a soft melody.
How can humans compare?!

Life is in the here and now, the present,
Death is in the past and future; regret and needs to be met.
But talking about dying, pain, angst, the last breath brings life;
Mysterious peace settles, an absence of strife.

We may think we’re alone in death,
But we all go through it, crossing that precipice.
Something we all have in common,
Not just for one but for everyone.

Sharing stories becomes living memories,
Remembered in death, then as homilies.
Celebrating life: a life well lived,
Then, death is seen as not taken but given.