A Sense of Wonder

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City Beauty – June Perkins

For Rachel Carson

Rachel says
open your children to wonder
about birds
together learn each ones song
and their many names
as you  wander  their land
maybe imagine flying
to their tree top
homes.

Rachel says
imprint in them
the story of the sea
the delicacy of balance even on the rugged shorelines
through them knowing
its biography
as if it’s their best friend.

Rachel says
listen to the wind
find the names of each wind
so you can read its personality
warm or cold
and know when you should
stay away from the sea
and when you can embrace and nurture
it.

Rachel says
open to them to wonder
so they will not pass by this world
without knowing it calls
to us
from stars to shoreline
moon dust to leaves.

Rachel leaves her love of nature
on the shorelines of our present
each wisdom wave
saying
wonder
wonder
wonder

The late Nell Arnold introduced me  to Rachel Carson’s writing after seeing some of my photographs and poetry.  We had been living in Far North Queensland in a country town surrounded by the natural environment.

I always loved biology and nature at school and one of our best excursions was mapping the shoreline, and if I had heard about Rachel earlier I am sure I would have wanted to study ecology.  I think it’s time for me to read more of her work.

I am working on my first nature essay and searching for a focus for it.  The clues come to me in photography, poetry, parenting, and connection. I am contemplating how science and art can come together and how we can find nature in the city.

Living in the city now, I miss that connection.  I search for splinters of it, in noticing the bush turkeys that dig our yard and taking opportunities to go to the park and look for wildlife and work out the species of the trees. Every time we leave the city I feel the pull of the shorelines.  I feel sad that we had to leave the natural surrounds of our old home for the opportunities the city offers. I carry those shorelines and rainforests in my soul.

If only the opportunities could exist in the spaces close to the environment, so that wonder was inbuilt into our opportunities. Now I look for the times we can go and find ourselves closer to the earth…

(c) June Perkins

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A Day to . . .

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On the River, by June Perkins

A day to paint
the colour splashes
and reflections
in the buildings across the river.

A day to look
in the water
for ripples and memories
of people who travel up the river.

A day for friends
who paint or play music
and help to bookend
the day in the feeling of friendship.

A day to sniff out
a creative on the way to
discover a muse in a flute player
followed by birds in a gallery.

A day to dream of cloud pianos
and fog flutes
bringing all the world together
in a rainbow of sound.

(c) June Perkins, words and image.


This is what I wrote for this image, what would you write?

Cross Roads

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Taken by Daughter

To follow dreams
seen from the centre
of the crossroads

To feel the thrill
of  new learning
and new friends

To look beyond to where
stories might
grace a large screen

To have
the canvas of
a green screen

To unpack the stories
of poem
and lives to be told

To have moments of doubt
and wonder whether
to play it safe

But playing it safe
only leads to a dead
end

And a dream to make
it back
to the crossroads

The crow and heron
take their positions
in the park

The dreamer
finds optimism
dancing in reflections

Time to fly
down a chosen
path

No more just hanging
around at
the crossroads

Packing suitcases of knowledge
for futures
never known
(c) June Perkins

Requiem

Skeleton lights shine
On Aphrodite’s chorus
Forcing us to bow down
And start exploring her library on love.

Feverish bones fly
Towards Mount Olympus
Trying to unearth
From the library cemetery
Your mythical- emotions.

Perseus persuades you
To consider me
An impossibility,

While Hades calls
For your rejection of my heart.

Buried in your
Pencil coloured sea
You write your requiem mass.

A hundred syllables,
A hundred notes on
And you are gone.

A legend
I leave you in
The skeleton light.

(I wrote this poem when I was 17. I was reading a lot of mythology at the time. I was sitting in a library too! I published an excerpt of it before
but here is the whole poem)
(c) June Perkins

The World is Singin’ its Blues

I’ve been working on many writing projects, but somehow my heart just wants to write a lot of peace poetry and songs – the world is in such dire straits and we are all connected and need to reach out and build a peaceful world. This seems the most urgent thing to write, dream and work for.

Pearlz Dreaming

guitarboy2 Guitar Boy by June Perkins

The world is singin’ its blues
askin’ for a bit of time to heal
askin’ why it’s so hard to feel
that nothin’ we do is gonna make
peace be real

askin’ for a DJ who understands
the need for peace
who can give us some
musical release
to bleed out the fears
dress them in a mother’s tears

The world is ringin’ out its questions
why, oh why’s a piece of land
or your religion
something to kill or die for
and why are people so quick
to tie their fate to
those noose of hate?

askin’ for a DJ who can change the down beat
into an upbeat
bring some kind of optimism into play
dress that sorrow
in a technicolour tomorrow

The world is singin’ its blues
askin’ for a bit of time to heal
askin’ why it’s so hard to feel

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Show not tell poetry4peace

Pearlz Dreaming

treeplanting49 Tree planting at the Gap – By June Perkins

Feeling a little heart-broken with all the despair in so many parts of the world. Time to write lots more #poetry4peace

Another bomb

another bomb fell on Gaza
and more people died

more people were feeling anxious
about flying

breakfast television said it was because
of the news and events in Ukraine

mothers and children marched
their happiness through the streets
free from Russian occupation

an Israeli soldier
was kidnapped

another bomb fell on Gaza
and more mothers cried

breakfast television said
children under 7 should not
be exposed to too much gruesome news

in the middle of the night
boat people were flown to Nauru
their lawyers were surprised

I read some poems from a prisoner of Faith
Mavash Sabet
my heart wept for her
missing the great outdoors

and smiled at her strength
and the beauty of her poetic…

View original post 62 more words