Friday, October 19, 2012

Walking with the Bee Poem
After my aimless strolling that led me
to meditate on the ancient running of birds,
and the way pink/grey galahs, magpies 

and peewees were bound together like
the scrolls of clouds, I began to power walk 
concentrating on an increase of speed.

As it happened a poem was walking with me.
It started a week before with the line
the comings and goings of bees,

and so I continued circling the park
thinking of the next line while listening
to Pomegranates by Anthony Lawrence.

I had seen bees clinging to a copper's log
and discovered later that this buzzing temple
of wings, shaped like a beating heart,

was commonly known as 'swarming'. During
several mornings, the cluster moved from one log
to another, then to an olive branch, where it

precariously hung like a brown thought-balloon.
The bees moved again, and this is where the poem
struck me as a magic engine of nature; the olives

beginning to nugget, magpies chortling into mown
grass, peewees translating behind, and the bees 
shouldering their way into a body of wings.

In the end, I wanted the poem to buzz and sing,
hoping words might rise up like the noble bee
and sting the morning with all its earthly noise.



Published by Australian Poetry Centre, Melbourne

of Arc & Shadow

of Arc & Shadow
Published by Sunline Press, WA

The Joyous Lake

Par écrit

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