Something is chasing us.
Is it a powerful virus called Corona?
Is it anxiety turned to
cruelty stripping the supermarket shelves?
Is it fear turned to arguments
on the public transport when someone coughs?
We aren’t we worrying more
about what are we running towards?
Can we take a deep breath and run towards it stripped
of anxiety and fear
naked of ego and selfishness?
Can we clothe ourselves in
the discoveries we will make?
Remember to breathe
to take in with compassion the fear and despair
to understand these feelings
breathe them out into kindness
into a sense that everyone of us has the power to give
and do things,
swap seeds, give away excess
heal each others scars
after the virus has run its course.
How many can we take with us as we run?
How many of us will fall?
How many, ashamed finally,
will share the seedlings and goods
they stripped the nurseries and supermarkets of or
admit that we threw teachers and hairdressers
under the bus in pursuit
of economy and beauty.
I knew when the cyclone would end.
I saw the green leaves return in the rainforest
one by one.
Now the lines of unemployed cascade down the streets
and a sense of a modern day depression is born
and Bindi is our Shirley Temple
she marries her beloved without wedding guests.
And now we must breathe
breathe ourselves into
(c) June Perkins
I have been a bit quiet of late, as a new book, Illuminations: 19 Poems and 1 Story, is about to be born.
At the end of this post is a preview of the back cover.
It has been a happy process – and has reunited me with designer Heidi Den Ronden and editor Matilda Elliot from Magic Fish Dreaming and led to working with new illustrators, Ruha and Minaira Fifita and some additional editing from Belinda Belton.
This book will be available in June 2020. I am using the Ingram Spark platform and developing more publishing and distribution skills this time around.
I’ve also retreated a bit to do some writing! Will keep you posted on the book, and I am keeping up my instagram posts.
I’ve been reflecting on how we treat the aged in our population after passing my fiftieth year. Some new poems being born through my poetry notebook. They are perculating, aging gracefully to find their meaning!
That’s all for now. Keep well, and think of happiness as a process not a destination.