An Afternoon in Murwillumbah

 An Afternoon in Murwillumbah

In the grove, the Goddesses gather

in bright velvet cloaks, in a small semi-circle 

of folding chairs overlooking a gully.

Four are white-haired, two fair, one dark.

On the ground we have placed yellow flowers

and a statuette of Gaia, rounded and fecund.

(There’s a dragonfly drawn on her belly

and a long carved braid down her back.)

We settle, breathe. With the tips of our tongues

we taste the air. We close our eyes. Shrill birds,

too high for us to see, call and call in the trees.

We open our eyes, let them take in all we see.

Because it’s a grove, I speak the Druid prayer.

Then our Grandmother Goddess leads us

in a meditation for the Earth. We each become

a raindrop, falling through branches.

The raindrop enters the stream. The stream

descends underground, feeds plants

and the roots of trees, heads to join the river….

We hear the constant sound of moving water.

After we bring ourselves back, resurfacing,

a fat black dog from the park behind us,

not much older than a puppy, pounds the grass

and dashes in amongst us, full of joy.

We hug the dog, and greet the unknown woman

who follows, laughing, to fetch her – 

not at all startled to find us here in our cloaks 

contemplating the gully under the tall trees.

This little town between river and mountain 

is matter-of-fact about things like that.

‘You’ve been meditating,’ she says. We agree, 

standing and gathering our stuff.

‘I saw all the cars,’ she says. ‘I thought the park

would be full of dogs to play with. When I saw

it was empty, I let her off her leash.’ We assure her

it’s fine. The dog gets in a few more happy hugs.

Written for Weekly Scribblings #68: Where Are You Placed? at Poets and Storytellers United. Murwillumbah is a rural town in the sub-tropical Northern Rivers region of New South Wales, Australia, a little south of the Queensland border and half an hour's drive inland from the coast.