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I touch the rock
I have no choice
But to reach out to her
Her song is sad
A lament for the lost.
She has lived such a long time
She has seen and heard so much
Now she is forgotten.
She feels abandoned because
People think she does not live
Her spirit is strong and determined
But she is sad, so sad.


The Kraken

There's something in the deep, my friends
The Kraken lives! The Kraken wakes!
There's something big down there, my friends
On great white sharks its fast will break
Holes the size of dinner plates
Appear on whales that beach ashore
From a hundred mile long tentacles
That snake across the ocean floor
There's something in the deep, my friends
We know neither what nor where
But from the sailors' tales I've heard
Perhaps it's best we leave it there.

At One With The Universe

As I sit to write this, it is late afternoon on the last Friday in May. For early summer, it is quite cool, but fortunately the weather is dry. Closing my eyes, I realise also how still it is; the birdsong has been set aside for now, so that the important work of feeding and nesting can be continue without interruption.

I have decided to avoid the news for some time. I fear the world is becoming increasingly intolerant. It is riddled with barbarism, cruelty and thinly disguised - or not disguised at all - hate. What has upset me most is that it seems to be worldwide. I cannot lay blame solely on a particular set of cultural values. It is pervasive. It is everywhere. It disturbs me.

I find my knitting strangely meditative; the regular rhythm of the pattern soothes and settles me. I allow my mind to empty so I can stay in the moment, focused solely on the click of the needles. It doesn't last long.

I am not, by nature, a noisy person, but neither am I especially timid. I am finding my own company quite enjoyable, but equally am happy to have the company of others at various points during the day. Being on my own allows me to reflect and consider, to puzzle and conject, to follow thoughts and ideas through to conclusions. Does this make me a philosopher? I don't know. I don't think it really matters very much.

It occurs to me how boring my life could appear. I don't eat meat, fish, eggs or honey, I neither drink nor smoke; no drugs or casual sex or deranged shopping sprees for things I don't want because I'm feeling down. I am very happy with my life. It has all that I need - what else is there? I have a regular income, my bills are paid, there is food in the house and clothes on my back. I have enough and I am grateful for it. I am wealthier than many others.

The sun pours through the windows now. The universe seems to be showing its agreement with my thinking. Academically, I know that's nonsense but I do find it comforting. Is it not a nice feeling to live in accordance with the universe? It is all I can hope to do, it is all anyone can hope to do, and it is my life project. To follow the will of the Universe, I think, may well be the key to peace, fulfillment and happiness.

Just the act of writing that statement has had an effect on me. I feel released, free, almost revitalised. Alive? Perhaps that is a better word. I am now LIVING instead of just EXISTING. What a revolutionary notion!

It is beautiful outside. The sun is beating down, a light breeze moving the leaves in the trees and white bottomed bumblebees hover around the tiny mauve flowers dusting one of the shrubs in my raised beds.

Yes, Universe, I have plenty. And I am grateful.


Stef Matthews

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