Sorry to hear this Andrew but glad to hear you’re back. Hope you get some
good post-op service. A friend here in Daylesford has been impressed with
Springs Medical Centre which offers use of a local gym twice a week for
cardio stuff for three months, all fir $100.
Bill
On Thu, 5 Apr 2018 at 12:12 am, Andrew Burke <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Clear little meditative poem, Jill. I like it.
>
> My view of time has just shifted - this afternnon I arrived home out of
> hospital with my 3rd heart attack. I will value each hour more than ever!
>
> Andrew
>
> On 4 April 2018 at 16:55, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> > I too, die each summer, which endures well into autumn these days, Jill.
> I
> > like the series of time ruminations from moon to bee here. Also the sense
> > of time ‘on display’ as it were.
> >
> > Bill
> >
> > On Wed, 4 Apr 2018 at 1:48 pm, Jill Jones <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > > Time Circles and Nectar
> > >
> > > What is time?
> > > ‘We have to turn the clocks
> > > back tonight.’
> > > We gain an hour.
> > > But we know we don’t.
> > > Hours aren’t time.
> > > I watch a bee on the paver.
> > > I think it’s dying.
> > > Its last day, last minute?
> > > It turns and turns
> > > time circles, death circles.
> > >
> > > Above there’s a daylight moon
> > > near full. It’s been there
> > > a long time, hanging around space.
> > > Moon time and bee time
> > > are different and the same.
> > > When your time’s up, it’s up.
> > > Up till now the year
> > > has been tiring.
> > >
> > > ‘The light looks different
> > > in winter.’ It does but how.
> > > Lower, softer maybe.
> > > Or mellow and aching.
> > > They say it’s to be
> > > a warm dry autumn
> > > then a cold winter.
> > > It’s time it rained
> > > so ground can be more
> > > subtle, our skins
> > > more tender.
> > >
> > > We’ve remade the garden
> > > so our plants can tolerate
> > > drought. So they’re less
> > > like dying paper.
> > > I’ve lived all my life
> > > on this old dry continent.
> > > I still can’t tolerate drought.
> > > I die each summer.
> > > We got rid of most of
> > > the exotics, the plants
> > > of the north. Roses were
> > > never sensible, only beautiful
> > > within that sensual breath
> > > so lush and transient.
> > >
> > > I watch the bee.
> > > It’s a native bee.
> > > All bees love the nectar
> > > whether rose nectar
> > > callistemon nectar
> > > gum nectar, apricot nectar
> > > It’s all sweet like
> > > the thought of time.
> > > No, that’s bittersweet.
> > > It never stops. One day
> > > I will stop hanging round
> > > here.
> > >
> > > I see time’s wave, shivering
> > > up there in gum leaves
> > > feel its particles compress
> > > under my feet near where
> > > the bee moves.
> > > They’re predicting another
> > > cyclone in the Top End
> > > and ex-Tropical Cyclone Iris
> > > is still mashing
> > > Queensland beaches.
> > > While down here
> > > around me, I almost believe
> > > I can smell the bush’s
> > > old honey, the lost strains
> > > of rose petal, the life cycle
> > > of eucalypt sap.
> > > I leave the bee to what
> > > continues to happen.
> > >
> > > ________________________
> > > Jill Jones
> > > www.jilljones.com.au
> > >
> > > Latest book: Brink, Five Islands Press
> > > http://fiveislandspress.com/catalogue/brink-jill-jones
> > >
> > >
> > >
> >
>
>
>
> --
> Andrew
> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> Books available through Walleah Press
> http://walleahpress.com.au
>
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