ode to 2015

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fathersday
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pasture
gardenflowers
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to a year, so nearly spent
so much to say and
yet left unsaid –
you have held in your days
immeasurable joy
and grief too heavy to bear,

you have been the hardest year
so much newness, unknowns
in the darkness of the night
we lay wondering
why and if only,
for what –

we learnt  so much about ourselves
our limitations, our gifts
we wrestled with hopes,
projections, beginnings –

and moments like

holding that just-born baby boy in my arms,
filling a basket of freshly laid eggs, still warm,
saying goodbye to my beloved grandmother,
the crunch of thick frost and the drought that keeps on,
the smell of bush fires that swept out of control near us,
walks up the hills behind our house with my sister, my mother,
with friends and alone,
kin moving to the town nearby,
running out of power for two days
(and running out of water for three)
rising early to set up a market stalls,
plucking your own chicken,
the golden yolk of a good egg and buzz of a busy hive –
the kindness of neighbours, the sheep on the road
and so so many funny phrases of our three year old,

I cannot help but close my eyes
and whisper, in all this
we are so blessed,
truly,
we are held and hounded
loved and enfolded –

we accept because we must –
that most of life is slow, steady work
and we are only just started.

2 thoughts on “ode to 2015

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