Morning Ritual

My morning ritual of cutting a lemon in half to prepare my elixir—I remove each seed before squeezing it into warm water. Despite my efforts, I often fail—at least one sneaks through. Yet I enjoy doing this every morning.

fresh lemon awaits

knife gently nudges seeds

one slips through

Yuccas Weep

How the yuccas weep when the rain falls on them.

gloomy autumn day

cordylines pierce the dark sky

rain falls on yuccas

Hungry Magpies

The magpies are so used to my neighbour’s morning feed that they’ve started calling him every day.

Suburban morning

Raspy calls of the magpies

Alarm for breakfast

Feather Remains

A lone feather lies on the pathway outside the window. It remains long after the wind has gone.

Breeze descends from trees

A sole feather twists and turns

Resting as wind fades

Heron Waits

A heron stands on one leg in still water, balanced like a yogic pose. The water is shallow but the waiting feels deep.

Midst of still water

Heron balances for fish

Deep meditation

Bee Sting

When a swarm of bees descends on a delicate neck—spring revealing its territorial instinct.

Hive by the window

Joyous child walks past at dusk

Flight of sting-arrows

The Fall

Is it inevitable that thoughts, once refined, seek to fall back into their original mundanity?

New hope sprouts at dawn

Buds hum on rising branches

Thoughts ripen, then fall