Selected poems
We are as leaves
We are
As leaves
In flowing water
Compost
Given
Reprieve
The black cockatoos
You sat
In the young forest
Of eucalypts
And slowly emptied out
Sandstone boulders breathing
With the setting sun
You heard them first
Calling, some distance off
Prying at the veil as they do
Peeling boards from the floor
And then you saw
Moving in slow motion
A gang of rowdy thieves
Lifting your grip
On the concreteness of it all
Black against the sky
Shadows cast by shadows
From the other side
Waking you to the bigger dream
The wind
The wind
Taps me on the shoulder
Like an old friend
Gesturing towards the natural world
Shit and bliss
You were writing
And needed to shit
Your heart was full to overflowing
With the first whispers of spring
The bees, the birds, the blossoms
Passing by the old tree
You looked up
To the hills
To the West
To see
Two eagles hunting, circling, soaring
And you stopped
And you wept with joy
And then you went
And took that shit
The stone Buddha
The stone Buddha
Is wearing his water coat
Over mossy tan
This morning
On poetry #5
The words are wings
To the lost one
Inspired to flap
Destined to glide
Perhaps even soar
He starts
In a darker place
Unfamiliar, haunted?
Each step an act of faith
A prayer in search of ground
The words are little gods
Morsels of will
Carrying contracts
Seeking signatures
Or partners in crime
He longs to belong
Follows the scent of bosom
A place to call home
Each breath announcing quietly
I am here
The words are orphans
Disconnected and afraid
Each alone defiant
Each a snarl of instinct
No possessions, other than being itself
The words are wings
To the lost one
Inclined to flap
Destined to glide
Perhaps even soar
Sharpen your ears to soul
Sharpen your ears to soul
And hear
God dropping pins
Like tropical rain
Torrential
Sing me your song
There is no escaping it
You'll be mud before long
So spare me your theories
And sing me your song
Flesh
Flesh is both doorway and boundary
Mind the hall of mirrors
Time a way to hold infinity
Peace: death with a view.
Letting God listen
Some distance from the crowds
Amongst yesterday's containers
You found solace
In a darkened place
Far from the gaze of
Mummy and Daddy and
Far from the pulse of progress
You gave away your weight
On an upturned apple box
By a stained brick wall
You came to rest
You closed your eyes
And your prayer was to be
In unremarkable silence
In this unremarkable place
Letting God listen
To your listening
Sean O'Carroll lives in Melbourne, Australia. He works a psychotherapist and academic. His research and writing are driven by a keen interest in the relationship between human psychology and the natural world. Lucid Nature is his first book of poetry.