Growing Old (Time)
--- Rob Harle
Nature
sends forth its illusions,
the
moon casts her silent glow
as
silhouettes dance and sing.
With
your words never forget time,
never
tarry too long
for
stagnation breeds stagnation
and
time will never let you forget.
Ride
the rain,
travel
swiftly to the sea
follow
the heart of the wind.
Old
human vessels sail slowly,
sometimes
silently,
egos
are the only terminal events in history
and
dissolve when the river becomes the sea.
Time and Tide
--- Rob Harle
I watch the glassy waters recede,
pulled towards the sea
relentless, silent.
Lady Luna smiles
her invisible force, irresistible
the daily, hourly movement
sketches time.
Like a skilled strip-tease artist
she exposes the delicate liminal
zone
a naked body lying between wet and
dry.
The ebb and flow
harbinger of civilization
ruler of romance
creator of cultures.
This incessant flow defines time,
understand this well
homo-electronicus.
Bits of techno-gadgetry,
like a conjuror’s illusion
fool us every day,
keeping us comatose,
pacifiers of harsh reality
and the cold hard shards of
existence,
Time and Tide wait for NO ONE!
Pumpkin Creek
--- Rob Harle
guarded by dense mangroves
a million miles from the fast lane
the humble house awaits
rocky outcrops and eucalypts
the Hawkesbury signature
symbols of an ancient land
dominate my vision
boat access only!
psychic adjustments required here
a reconnection with river, time and
tide;
this is wild country
a place for creating,
a place to reassess values,
a place to laugh at our
self-deceptions
the sturdy jetty
a safe landing point
beckons,
my little boat approaches
whoosh, whoosh
and the sun caresses this Nirvana.