Delivery

Hanging preschooler sized pants on the line
On a sunshiney lockdown day

Brrrrmmmmm
The postie bike stops at my gate

Through he comes with two big packages
“I’ll just put these here”

They sit by the door
As I continue my dance with the endless laundry cycle

I pick them up on my way inside
One, a bundle of online fast fashion for the teen

The other addressed to me
Flat, registered, with stiff cardboard inside

My graduation certificate and testamur
Just like that

Ten years of isolated online toil
Solo parenting, working so many jobs

My Masters degree has been conferred in hi-vis
From the other side of the laundry basket

Not a mortarboard in sight
But what beautiful weather for Graduation Day!


And now

Presenting:

This moment

Welcome to your appointment with life

Thank yourself for making time
in your busy schedule
to be available to notice
your breath
coming into your body
and leaving your body

Your belly rising
Your belly falling

Your mind slowing
Your tension releasing

Your heart opening
Your shoulders falling

Your smile relaxing
Your eyes softening

Your hair growing
Your forehead clearing

Your organs rejoicing
Your freedom expanding


Breath coming in

Breath flowing out

Yes
How lovely


Looking deeply into things

Opening your perception up to the beauty and miraculous perfection all around you

Remembering your innate intelligence

Savouring the elegance of life
And your self as part of the miracle

Here you are

Right here
Right now

Breathing
Breathing

Calm
Smiling

Present
Wonderful

Worthy
Welcome

You are as perfect as that leaf
That shell
That star
That sunrise
That breeze
You are all of these things
With gratitude and love
You belong

Because I am a miracle

That I am alive
Is a miracle

That I am able to breathe
Deeply into my belly
Is a blessing

For such a blessing
I feel deepest gratitude


When I was a star
I couldn’t hear the birds
Singing in the morning

When I was a star
I couldn’t taste the ocean
Salting my skin

When I was a star
I couldn’t feel the warm breeze
Bringing my face messages of hope

When I was a star
I couldn’t inhale the mint or the rose
In all their ostentatious fragrant glory

When I was a star I couldn’t even see
the magic of the afternoon light
golden, slinky, as it casts itself
so flatteringly
over all the miracles
that surround us

Here I now am
in this exquisite form

a feeling, sensing, breathing
miracle of life
with the sublime ability
to derive deep pleasure
from my physical functions
eating, moving, shitting, sleeping, drinking water, laughing, breathing...

Why would I look for anything more?

When I was a star
I saw this life and chose it

Now I am here
Experiencing

Morning birdsong filling my spirit

Gently dancing trees soothing my soul

Totally nourished by the very act of recognising the beauty of our natural world,
of which I am a worthy element,
and basking
in gratitude
for this
divine
moment

Copyright Zoe Xanadu 2021

Tea and sunrise

Magpies stomping on the roof

Rustling sounds in the garden

different
to the nocturnal rustlings

bolder



shadows of the morning walkers

diligent silhouettes
passing by my window

the dusty film makes it all seem
so romantic

lace hanging haphazardly

like a renaissance era opera dancer

backstage
in a state of delicious dishevelment
limbs everywhere



Dogs pull their humans
eager to know what news this day brings
so easily sated
by the daily miracle
of the sun remembering to rise



What further delight
would any sane person
seek to seek?



Stay here in this

the gold of highest value

hear the praises
sung by those with wings

whose freedom of flight
allows the broadest view from above

who still choose
to come home to roost

They will always remind me

that to be near a tree
is all I need

To breathe the freshness
of the new day

in through my newest leaves
down to my deepest roots

And to feel my expansion

My belonging

My arrival home

In every direction

as I exhale



Dwelling in the ultimate dimension



Grateful for this breath

Copyright 2021

Regeneration

My girlfriend says she wants
to get a truck
and line them up
and run them over

Ok..
I think,
... that could be good...

...but what of the seeds they’ve dropped?
the seeds just like the ones from which they grew
already sprouting,
spouting entitlement
and ownership
and so much unpaid rent.
What of this invasive weed?


The weed that leads Prime Ministers
to describe women as “finding ourselves in vulnerable situations”

The weed that means that when women demand - request - suggest safety,
Men get angry.

Not all men.

It’s true.
There are men like native plants, unobtrusive, growing well, supporting an ecology of healthy growth in the recovering, adapting rainforest of the truth of human nature.

Quick!

Create a nursery!
Support these plants to propagate and flourish!
Let the birds spread their seed, shitting indiscriminately over
Formal Gardens
Infested Riverbanks
And Backyards the world over.

Let the feminist men multiply.
Let the weeds be made redundant
by the fabulous and unapologetic spread of sweet grevillia!

The age of the dominance of
Morning Glory
is ending.

It was never ok to rub that on your cousin as she slept.

Copyright 2021