South Qld - Tugan - Rivers Run

This is a poem I wrote after a conversation with a friend. It was a chilly night and we were huddled under blankets drinking Chai. The space this friend held allowed me to feel ok - perfect just the way I am - and listened to. I cried - a lot. I called it Blankets Wisdom... I feel like this kind of wisdom is being in a safe and trusted space, preferably sitting under a blanket made by a wise older person made by hand (so all of the essence of them floods into the conversation in a mysterious way). Feel free to speak it out loud as if you are in a poetry slam. Mostly because it feels cool - like a rapper, free to speak but safe under a blanket ;)

The Chill of Henrietta Creek

Blankets Wisdom

There are precious few who have mastered the art.

Nimble and sure-footed, walking across wet river rocks, just for fun and for the sake of feeling alive.

Crispness, alertness and presence are required.

The reward: a wild new path and the nervy beauty of unchartered territory.

A similar single point focus as held by someone in the throws of deep listening.

To bear witness to the words of a friend, allowing depths beneath uttered words to flow.

Simple and unwavering, it allows a masterful decoding through a spoken story.

Acceptance and encouragement of words previously unexpressed in the world.

Sometimes these conversations can get a little deep - sort of like your swimming around in a mirk... Maybe it because at depth, gravity is felt from the water above.

Then you surge up and take a breath - streaks of light filter through to show you the way.

A rare and precious time - vulnerable yet safe.

Gleaming conversations, the ones which form over a lifetime - are exquisite to share.

Rare like seeing the glint of a shiny stone as you cross a river.

Your hand reaches into the cool water following only instinct.

How sweet this stone feels.

This stone, having felt the the caress of a thousand years of water flowing and wind blowing.

Hydrogen bonds and gravity willing the water to flow.

The sun, the earths orbit and tilt allowing the winds to blow.

All for you so you can feel this stone smooth against your cheek.

On a day never before today, these uttered words unify, as if by design.

They have been gathering themselves over a lifetime.

The enigmatic state of thoughts and feelings.

A particular collection strung together, the fabric of a conversation

Puzzles and mysteries are invited into the honoured space.

Flowing off tongues into the crisp air, warm Chai in hand.

On this day, the wrap of the knitted blankets bring comfort and support.

A well used blanket most probably is the guardian of many stories, if you really think about it.

There really is so much wisdom is a good woollen blanket.

Woven in steady rhythm by hands, lined with the age of countless moments.

Fibres grown on the backs of animals, who cells are made from the same atoms present at the formation of the earth.

Blanket in lap, sitting on cushions on the wooden floor, sipping sweet tea.

Eyes focussed, presence, listening to the space between moments.

A lot like perfectly placed footsteps over the rocks.

Rivers flow, stones become smooth.

Comrades and co-creators in the art of listening - they are a storyteller, a blanket and a friend.

Written by Kristy J. Brown

A place of rivers and rocks - Pineapple Grotto FNQ