Sunday 1 February 2015

First Love

Why dream of others – times or places or people – when there is so much love in the here and now. Sit. Be still. Let cloud drifts send shade collages across a eucalypt canopy, while angophoras bloom with chalky flocks of cockatoos. Breathe a joyful breeze of cut lawn and coffee and roasting vegetables. Let the dollarbirds cackle and roll across the spun-sugar sky and the wattlebirds yelp inside callistemon thickets while mother whipbird flips and hops through a mulch mountain at the feet of one filled with irrational discontent.

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