Author Archives: bydda88

About bydda88

I love poetry, writing, especially writing as healing, as touching the sacred, being touched. And place, places dreaming us, us them. Coasts, rivers, canyons; the ordinary things too, the small things, gestures that reach out.

Pooled

Some days the black tide seeps in (depression). Often for reasons I can’t tell or discover. It’s just suddenly there, black, often shiny, with no end of it, no beginning, no land to step back onto, no beach, no edge. … Continue reading

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Tidal Days

Tidal days, sea-foam days that curl and shapeshift, carry the heart on the wind, out and back, out and back. Horseshoe Bay, Port Elliot. Days when I see energy lines, stones that bounce and tell of tides and schools of … Continue reading

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Landscapes of the Heart

I’ve come across love letters, old ones, written me many many years ago. Those times when you’d have to wait days and even weeks for a letter to arrive. I’d be poised, held in and up by moments that stretched … Continue reading

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Dancing Reflections

The dance between, in and out of balance; wherever we go, we are, runs the Buddhist saying. Here the Valley of the Gods, just out of Medicine Bow in Utah, the car that got us there, the warm sunny day, … Continue reading

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Feathered Days

I like to watch the sparrows in the garden. How they dart about, chatter amongst themselves, all fly off in the one, sudden moment, return later, one or two, then more, come back to pick for food, drink from the … Continue reading

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Cloud Speak

Clouds, that shifting choreography in the sky, wispy, runic, rippling, changing, Clouds as portents, omens, hints, signs of direction, currents, particular landscapes. Clouds rich with story. Those rolling thuderclouds in the American South West; the busy chatter of clouds in … Continue reading

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Edgelings

I’m out in the front garden, sitting under a gum tree. Parakeets have a nest up high on the branches. The nest looks frail and yet solid, swaying with the wind. Clouds whisper across the sky, thin trails of conversations … Continue reading

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Healing Spaces

The body remembers. It’s a library of our lives. It offers so many opportunities to listen to it, yet so often we ignore it in our so-called ‘time poor’ days, until something goes ‘wrong’. And we are forced to stop. … Continue reading

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Paths

Whatever afflicted me in Vietnam still lingers. It’s been hard to write, do much. I’ve had to rest frequently, converse little, socialise even less, do things in very small steps. Listen to my body, rather than pushing it to do … Continue reading

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Awen

Through the darkness, light shimmers; that dance between landscape, sky and individual being. Sometimes we are carried in a cup of light when we least expect it. Perhaps that cup is always there; we just don’t see it. But life … Continue reading

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