A Message to my Granddaughters in response to Michael Thwaites
Sometimes you slowly still, and within a certain satisfaction exudes into a self-absorbed contentment. And you say a quiet thank you, as a peace envelops the soul. Sometimes you slowly still.
I chose a marvellous city to call home, the break of morning, the stars departing, The mirror lake, the cutting Autumn air, The sun unfolding on the Brindabellas – I chose a marvellous city to call home.
And what a city, your native city.
The expansive view from Mt Ainslie
portrays Walter Burley Griffin’s plan in
the continual change of trees, hills, water,
his forever friends in living beauty.
And in this vista, commanding features - St John’s Church, the War Memorial, Civic Centre, The National Library, the new and old Parliament buildings, Regatta Point, Commonwealth Gardens, Capital Hill … and so much more, caught in the moment of an Autumn morning.
But will you appreciate in likewise fashion And will your days stretch to a contented life and will you, when time falls back against the years, will you … well, who knows! …
But on this morning, I will say again – I chose a marvellous city to call home.
Richard Scutter March 2022, Canberra
March is the start of Autumn in Canberra. And this year it has not been a case of a sweltering summer and the autumn change will not be so dramatic; but always a time to appreciate the beauty of the changing colours of the trees.
And on this day, it is a time to value your home wherever you live. Hopefully, your home has not been violated by needless violence generated by future fear from another country.
What word is this
what word is this that sullies forth
its annual opening of eye
that generates such hope that more
meaning such to the hopeful gives
bandied before the year does end
but no end if known of knowing blend
what word is this that bleeds the heart
to pray suffer such indigent love unknown
yet same vein courses all life through
in never-ending beauty, unveiling of
eternal body splendid, that imperfect
diamond creator spirit shines
where the forever gift is born
and in the perpetrators mind
becomes again that one great joy
everlasting in the flesh absorbed
Richard Scutter Advent 2021
No bull, this is real he looks at me chewing cud I look at him you have quite a bit of muscle
I’m glad the fence is in-between
how many press-ups, weights? or is all just natural with you he doesn’t ruffle to my thoughts and just goes on a-chewing
but I can imagine action,
I wouldn’t want to get in his way!
it reminded me, as a boy, when camping
with the ‘Scouts’ in Scotland
No bull, this is true history we pulled up late at dusk and hurriedly put the tents up in the corner of a field and were soon fast asleep
it was in unsuspecting morning light and you can guess! when opening the tent flap door to be confronted so!
No bull, it was shock of the first degree
then ‘Scout’ action never seen before
and ever since then I have, what can I say
a certain face-to-face respect.
Richard Scutter October 2021
The context of this poem is embedded in the text, what is more interesting is what prompted these words. We were visiting an historic cemetery in Canberra which entailed walking along a path adjacent to a paddock with this bull close by and the photograph above is of that animal. And by association it took me back to camping with the Scouts in Scotland. This triggered a latent experience long forgotten. And Scottish highland cattle are quite something to behold but this animal certainly had a touch of menace as I looked at him with interest.
A personal Haibun poem on depression – (a poem which incorporates text, an image and haiku)
We all have a wide span of emotive feeling. That is the natural way of life. It is just that some have very high extremes at both ends of the scale. And this can be quite devarstating to all concerned. This is especially so if medical intervention is required.
The following happened in the early nineteen fifties in England.
When we were growing up; I can’t remember exactly how old I was but still at primary school. I was probably around about nine or ten years old. I was behind the garage wall with my younger brother. We peeped around to the front of our house and saw our mother being taken out of the front door on a stretcher to be put in the back of an ambulance. We were young and did not recognise that it was in fact an ambulance.
She was taken to a ‘Fair Mile’, then called a Lunatic Asylum, near Wallingford in Berkshire and for many weeks our Father would drive us to visit her; mainly at weekends. I can remember summer days when the fields were full of wheat. Quite often my brother and I spent a lot of time in the grounds waiting for the return trip home in the Morris Isis. It is funny how you remember little things in life and I can remember the number plate. On the home front we children were looked after by one of my Father’s sisters, Auntie Gwen.
What is relevant to this text is the fact that something had to change with Mother so that she could recover and return to our home. Many years later Mother told me that she went into an empty church nearby and when she came out of the stillness something had happened inside, both in the church and in herself and it was the beginning.
damp afternoon reaching for the light switch depression
It is in his dying that existence extends that distance compacts that carried forward through the centuries Christ lives again in our minds along the road beyond Emmaus.
So, we pray again in hope against the block-stone of incomprehension and our continual nonacceptance. While within each stinging soul the suppressed mustard-seed like the empty tomb lies dormant waiting.
Well, Easter is the key day in the Christian calendar. It is that ‘forever day’ that gives hope to humanity. And of course it is a day of celebration!
The clocks have gone back an hour overnight with the end of daylight saving in Canberra. And according to your belief system we get more than an extra hour because of this day!
Enjoy in the knowledge of the magnitude of this day with family and friends!