My neighbourhood is full of birds, cockatoos, ibis, magpies and pigeons.
The magpie song, will be one I can never forget
It has people who care about others in the street.
Who might even lay down their lives for each other.
The listener on the doorstep, who feeds all the birds, and takes our bins in and out.
A neighbour full of stories and care.
It has people who left who come back to check on people in the street
because their Nana told them too.
It now has claimed my life for nearly seven years.
It is an old tumbledown house, fixed up rental, made a loving at it can be.
The people inside are more important than the walls surrounding them.
It is a backyard full of songs and stories, and people watching the stars.
It is a place where the broken hearted gather in their search to be strong.
It is Ridvan stories written on the pavements in multicoloured chalk.
It is walking with writing friends and their dogs
praying in the park with friends.
It is the place where two books are born and created.
It is the last place my eldest son will live with us before heading off into the world.
It is a place where we discuss world unity, and what will cure COVID 19 and all the other world’s ills.
It is the place of visiting musicians from around the globe, filling our hearts with stories.
My neighbourhood is
A place where people leave shimmers in each other’s lives.
But how can it be closer?
How can it be a hub of unity in diversity?