Post-it note #137

I need to keep reminding myself of
the immeasurable importance of stealing

moments of quiet.

To gaze at the etcher sketch tableaux that is our sky,
to eavesdrop on the chitter-chatter of birds
and to skydive out of my frenzied mind
into solid flesh, bones and sinew.

To hear the breath that moves from my being to yours,
to all beings in the symphony of life

and notice the soul that stirs in rapture
at being part of the Earth’s unfolding.

Each moment reclaimed from the humdrum busyness
that we are conditioned to enact
to justify our existence in the meanness of modernity,
gives meaning to our existence

within the cosmic festival of living and dying
that pays no heed to bank balances or status symbols.


  1. Hi Dinali I just read your poem. Beautiful as always and wise counsel to follow.

    On Saturday evening I walked later than usual in the warm evening. I recorded persons tree frog calling loudly, it doesn’t call earlier. As I turned and walked back westwards to home the sky was a brilliant glowing gold and I walked through masses of moths, small ones visible against the gold. Up overhead hundreds of fruit bats flew upstream to feed for the night. A beautiful moment.

    Thank you for your poetry Next weekend my friend Jean, a very keen birdwatcher and I will go to Mundoo channel and be with the water and birds and sand dunes and Murray mouth.

    Go well Monica

    1. Thank you for sharing Monica your noticing of the changes at dusk. Beautifully said. I will think of you out spotting all the birds at Mundoo channel and enjoying the water. Will be lovely to see the Murray mouth after this spring rain

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