hand and body, waiting

I love the way one hand is held

within the other, along the body. 

And I also love that this woman loves

to play ping pong. Maybe one day 

we will play at the table in her living room.

Maybe she is waiting.

Photo: At a wedding, California

love everywhere

Everywhere, we protect

what we love.

Photo: Dog and home, New Zealand

drummer girl

Come, they told me, 

ba rum ba bum bum

Photo: Drum installation, Pompidou Centre, Paris

softness brings softness

If we want softness, we have to be softness.

Photo: Heart-squares, filled with lavender, New Zealand

Made by Agnes Coy: http://sotreadsoftly.wordpress.com/

herb city

How many times have I walked along

drying patches of plants, and probably 

each time, I stopped for a moment. 

To see is a way to touch.

Photo: Medicinal plants drying on sidewalk, Hong Kong

swamp ink

We sat at this swamp until 

the water turned to ink.

Photo: Nature reserve, Carterton, New Zealand

a white meal

I once made a white meal
with eleven white ingredients, all
served in a large white bowl.
Photo: Table preparation at my 50th birthday,
Ballroom Cafe, Wellington, New Zealand

silence

It wouldn't take much to silence her.

She loves the great word mute.

Photo: From a plane, location unknown

Text: 'Silence' by Dinah Hawken

Small Stories of Devotion, p 19

crowns

I love how the crowns of trees give way to each other.

Photo: Kahitakea trees, Carterton, New Zealand

moon cake

Soon it is mid-autumn in the Chinese lunar calendar, when we make large paper lanterns and send them skyward, moonward. 

Some of us eat cakes, as round and solid as The Moon, 

the 'most beautiful idea in the universe, the first

perfect thing she has ever seen'.

Text: Excerpt of 'The Moon' by Dinah Hawken, Page 58, 'Small Stories of Devotion', a book of G's

Photo: Sewer lid, New Zealand, and a happy kind of birthday wish, and moon cake, for P

may we swing

The swing. That rush into air, forth, forth. 

That momentum, effort.

Legs seen, felt, loved.

Photo: Two swings, for K and me, Titirangi, New Zealand

why this game?

A game people play 

around the world.

Photo: Giza, Egypt

woven

Light morning sky fabric.

Photo: Ferns, Carterton, New Zealand

air and road joy

A friend is going on a trip tomorrow, 

by air, then by land, and with a long 

road trip. I send wishes 

for beauty and joy.

Photo: Near the top of a mountain, Hong Kong

here's looking at you

I remember when we saw this creature. 

A guide with a gun said, any moment now,

and there could be a snap. 

He would not let us get any closer than this.

Photo: Crocodile sleeping, Texas

what a kiss means

Kiss the world.

Photo: On the tube, London 
For a and f, on their anniversary

twinkle twinkle

Fez, with lit ripples, 
and one shiny star.
Photo: For i's birthday, 
at the Koromiko Road home, New Zealand

one or the other

On, off, 

one switch, two. 

Some days, I mix

up all the directions.

Photo: Old outlet, New Zealand

maybe making

Maybe the sky is making 

a Yin Yang arrangement.

Photo: Sky over my home, New Zealand

a little horizon

Is that a little horizon within?

Like the blank page or canvas,

ready.

Photo: Display case, Paris

number fifty

I am now a passenger on this streetcar.

Photo: A tram, Hong Kong

and the seasons, they go

Tomorrow I have lived for exactly fifty years,

round and round and round in 

the circle game.

Photo: Object in a friend's garden, London

you, standing

In one language, tu means 'to stand'

and in another, 'you'.

Photo: Museum couryard, Paris

eight table

As a child, I sat to the left of my mother at the dinner table, a table set for eight. It was a warm place to be.

Today is also a warm day, 8.8, her 75th birthday, and we will celebrate her at a table full of love. 

As I type, it is still August 7th where she lives, but the table is ready, and the homemade pineapple-lemon cake, and my fifty years of love and thanks.

Photo: Picnic table in Masterton, New Zealand

vines decide

Green lives the need to express

wraps hills with respect

makes grassland honest

seduces moss

affirms trees

and vines decide its maze

Photo: Vines, New Zealand

Text: Excerpt from my poem 'whole'
on the colo(u)r green

oil room

The gallery describes this room as an 'epic illusion' and the flooded recycled engine oil as 'thick, pitch black and absolutely indelible' but says nothing about the smell.

Photo: Three viewers at 20:50, an installation by Richard Wilson.

A room filled with used sump oil and steel, it is the only 

permanent installation at Saatchi Gallery, London

paris wonder

We saw this and wondered.
Photo: Paris intersection

mountains, ake ake

I once called a man I loved 'hua shan' which means 'fire mountain' or 'volcano' and here is Ruapehu, one of the most active fire mountains in the world.  

In Maori, 'Ruapehu' means 'exploding pit' and 'ake ake' means 'forever'.

Photo: Mount Ruapehu, New Zealand

young and sudden

I have just heard of a friend's death, young, at 53, and sudden.

Kind, inspiring, committed, and with a clarity of thought.

I am thinking of you.

Photo: Stream in the yard, New Zealand

Text: For M (1958-2012)

quietly down

Home is where your life

holds you in its hand and, when

it is ready, puts you quietly down.

Photo: Leaves on a table, New Zealand
Text: The end of 'Discovery' from Lauris Edmond (1924-2000)

a big roundness

She is making a big roundness that runs and runs like a song she sings when she meets the wind on a swing set which pumps out of the ground like sex that scares so sweet and the little death of it turns everything into something seen and something softly caught and yes, she can live whenever she wants to.
Photo: arc, Wairarapa sky, New Zealand
Text: 'arc' is from my 2004 book, delicate access, page 68
and this is the month I turn exactly fifty.