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  Nighttime Solitude A lone peafowl pines plaintively across the darkened land Perhaps to call a mate or warn of passing danger But, I, a stranger do not understand For there are stranger sounds here where the darkened blossoms fall  A whispered footfall of a bushbuck shy, Nearby an owl hoo hoos and Who knows why for I a stranger to this night song of the frogs that sing And silent flight of night bird on the wing  I am a stranger to this safety in the dark  I blow the embers of the fire I made to keep the spark To fan the flame beneath the last log’s coal to burn more brightly For tomorrow I return to home and  Noisy cars and sirens nightly And to sorrow But for now I’ll sit a little longer by this tiny hearth The embers bright Competing only with Moon’s dappled light upon the appled earth And remember all the things I loved and love  put away the sorrow and the sadness for tonight  And ponder in the solitude that  Nighttime isn’t dark It’s just ...

  The Sapling So long we waited  And the time is here  At last A southern wind has blown  The sapling from the vast and distant shore And has returned it full and grown  Home to its root once more The soil rejoices as it feels the quiver of his tread The soil where once he fed Which bled when long ago the little seed took flight And had to fight to grow in foreign land And learn to understand another way But for today  The sapling will drink thirstily and long  And for today he’ll grow Where he belongs 

 There are days when I feel quite challenged by things that happen in my life or don’t happen or those unexpected out-of-left-field happenings or those people we all sometimes wish we didn’t have to run into (excepting of course if we were driving a steam roller) but living in Africa keeps me real.  So when people ask me why I moved back to Africa from Australia, I say this:  For love  And beyond that Maybe living elsewhere for a while helped me understand this place in a different way It’s not for sissies  It’s not for naysayers  There is nothing easy about living here  It is confronting and it is hard at best and it’s getting harder especially for those who already have so much need I keep reminding myself always to be kind and not judge the next person because I have not worn their shoes Nor have I walked barefoot on the scorched earth of Africa I have not carried water miles from a dirty water point In two hours time, I will have electricity  ...

  Be Yourself M=Me Y=You M: Yeah, but how?  And what happens if by just being “myself” nobody actually likes me or wants to be with me? Y: Oh well, then you could just read one or two of those self-help books that smooth off those little rough edges, not that you need to change that much, just those few little things which, well, make you a little less likeable.  M: Ok, so I’ve read the book Y: What book? M: Well, you said I should read a self-help book to make me a better person Y: Oh, so was it the BIG BOOK OF SELF IMPROVEMENT?  M: Uh, nope, it was a small one … I think, well, kind of medium sized Y: Well then you could probably expect a few small changes, nothing too dramatic though. Maybe if you’d checked with me, I would have lent you mine, which is the best one … because IT’S BIG and has a lot of “HOW TO CHANGE YOURSELF AND MAKE YOURSELF INTO A BETTER PERSON” research in it  M: Oh, well can you at least see a little bit of difference?  Y: Well, now th...

Catsiderata  Go placidly amidst the noise and haste   And spend as much time as you can in peace and silence As far as possible, do not surrender  And be on good terms with all people from a distance  Speak your truth clearly and quietly only at mealtimes and when the door needs to be opened  Listen and occasionally blink in acknowledgement of the presence of others and when everyone around you is dull and ignorant, never lose your cool; Simply walk away slowly  And sharpen your nails on something valuable to convey your inner power 

The word is ASMR Autonomous sensory meridian response Lick, lick, paw over nose. Repeat until nose is clean More licking,  paw behind ear,  repeat until ears are pristine. Lick, lick, pink rasping tongue across every inch of fur,  Lick, lick nibble and chew and purr  purr  purr I'm sinking into the gentle rhythm of the licking and purring, eyes closed as Njinsky, commonly known as Jinx, stretches out each back leg, nibbling and licking along the entire length of one leg, then the other, until he's satisfied that each little whisper of fluff has been scrubbed clean with his raspy little pink tongue. I read somewhere that the tongue of a lion is as rough as sandpaper. A lion could lick the skin off a human, if it wanted to did you know that? I imagine just eating you would work just as well, for the lion I mean. As for my little miniature lions, well, technically they are domestic tigers because they're stripy, well, orange AND...

She didn’t come up softly or silently Neither did she peer this way or that before Putting in the appearance We had been waiting We thought it would be A grand entrance We camped out on mountain tops We sat around beaches wrapped in towels and blankets With cameras on tripods Fiddling with the settings, pacing slowly on The walls of tidal pools like relatives In the hallways of maternity hospitals Waiting For that perfect moment We had all received some telling of her coming Via lunar calendars and social media and Those who always know everything about everything Who could be relied upon to be at the right place at the right time Many were practically astronomers by Great Moonday But Most of us weren’t We were just where we would have been anyway And then We all just kind of stopped when it started happening And we didn’t move again It was a kind of magic we weren’t expecting which descended on our bay with a quiet amber balminess We just stood and waited Whatever else we were suppos...

A quick search of the word "stubborn" took me down a rabbit hole where I found more than a few mules stuck in the narrow passages of their own making: arse to the wind, hee-hawing for all they were worth, veritably stuck in the mud long after help had been and gone. They would still be stuck there for probably much longer than they needed to be because of one common problem: They simply would not be gracious enough to take help or advice from another person. Any parent of a strong-willed child will tell you it's a constant challenge and very exhausting constantly "encouraging" them to do almost anything that they themselves haven't decided they want to do. They do not take orders from anyone. School reports are filled with comments like: "Could do better if he/she were more co-operative" or "His/her wilful attitude is a challenge in the classroom." With respect to the gender non-specific generation, I had a son who constantly challenged b...

Silken Stuff She buys a scarf, a memory of  the places that they used to go She ties it all around her head And every time she wears it now The little slip of silken stuff Reminds her that  She was enough He brings a scarf from faraway  A little slip of silken thread He tucks it in his leather bag Between his business shirts and stuff Amidst the sights and fantasies And all the places that he’s been She knows that even faraway She’s been remembered on that day And that she is enough So many times he goes away Till every country is the same Hotels Dinners Meals And deals Shaking hands  Exchanging names Playing endless corporate games Before he boards the last flight out His trusty PA must sneak out And thrust into his attaché A packaged slip of silken stuff A “memory” of his time away To let her know he thought of her And that she is enough Soon she has so many scarves So many memories  His, not hers And all reminders of the times She’s been alone  With noth...

Many dream of flying Many fly Some take off and soar Some take off and fly for a short while Only to fall again But some get up  And run again Again And again And again Wings outstretched Waiting for that one breeze Tilting their wings Trimming their feathers And running Like madmen To catch the next upward breeze Until the wind lifts them up And then For the briefest moment in time They are soaring Maybe not even that high But they’re flying They are flying Flying Soaring There are those For whom the take off is just too hard and the safety of the ground is easier to contemplate Than the pain of the fall They point their fingers at the crazies with their wings outstretched They shake their heads And they walk by Because They will never experience the rush under their wings  And that  one  brief  incredible  moment  of  soaring

A little boy was playing one day In a cobbled street in the village O When along came a troupe of dashing young men With their shiny swords and medals O With their shiny swords and medals O Where are you going? The little one asked As they marched by so proudly O “We’re off to battle in a far away land To fight for our King and country O To fight for our King and country O He ran up the hill to his cottage home  To tell what he saw to his mother O But standing at the gate she was weeping on the shoulder  Of his Daddy with his shiny sword and his medals O Of his Daddy with his shiny sword and his medals O “Where are you going with your swords and medals?” Where are you going dear Daddy O “I’m going to battle in a far away land And to fight for our King and country O And to fight for our King and country O “Can I go with you?” The little one begged “To the faraway land of fighting O” “I need you here my big brave boy To look after your mother and our baby O To look after your mo...