We found ourselves in the sun beside the lake
with its glinting horizontal lines.
The grass was green and soft
and the blossom trees
sent breaths of white tumbler-petals
harmlessly among the seated
every time the casuarinas sighed.
We are here to remember
my grandfather
among the petals
and the singing
and the mellow clang
of the huge Japanese bell.
**
It’s not just singing;
we have happened upon
a gathering acknowledging
International World Peace Day.
We didn’t know.
We listen to people’s stories
about where peace has disintegrated
or is a word from history
or simply an airy dream.
**
Later we talk about him,
how he fought in the war
in the name of peace
and believing in peace.
How the pollies
applaud ANZAC Day
but it feels like a one sided contract
where the soldiers died
to free democracy
and now democracy is dying
to free the rich.
**
“To have peace in your home
you must have peace in your heart”
On the surface
peace is almost tangible
in this city
at this time.
I walk the puppy and gulp air
as hungrily as a newborn
and feel the therapy of
mountains, trees and sky.
But it is I
(with the luxury of time
a happy home
a plentiful table)
who floats
breezy as wattle pollen
over the cares of the world.
**
The first summer storm
rips up the afternoon.
I don’t like its swearing
its stamping
its hurling.
I feel disquieted,
reminded of an
unhappy world
outside.
a beautiful and brilliant piece; such startling images — hang on, I’m going to have a second read
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