Poems for the Planet

Wonders of the Universe...

Ballroom of the





luminous splendour

from where we all hatched

lit up by a trillion sparkling stars:

galaxies  suns,  moons  and  planets,

Man dance with women, children with pets

and  trees with rocks Virus, microbes, lions

and bears....   Gazelles, dolphins,   whales

and sharks...  Dinosaurs:  Interacting in the

perpetual  cycle of cycles,  waltzing with

one-another   Attracted by the binding

blinding, - freeing  forces  of  love

in the Grand Great oval hall

of our greatest of all




Is there somewhere a ball in the universe?

Is not the universe itself is the ballroom?

Where the great grand children of stars

Suns, planets and moons

Atoms nuclei and electrons

are dancing together and in the peripherals

in perpetual joy attracted by love

the binding force of creation

and its perpetuation,  preservation,

until transcending themselves

by merging into light, energy and spirit

vibrating and dancing

with their great grand parents

the Stars, in the galaxies

galaxies with galaxies

and universes with universes

overseen, directed and energised  by

the Grand- Master of all Dances.




       Geelong, 11th November, 1992


I am the Child of the Stars.

They say


that in the "Big Bang"


is the beginning


of my hydrogen heart


hence those atoms came





a bird in a cage

I often sing

I don't want to change,

Contended I am with my lot

friends and family

And there are so many birds

who have nothing

I am given all comfort,

fun food and the drink,

All danger -and this is

all there is:

Beyond my cage

there is nothing.


I tell myself:

Happy I am and I so should be

I have all I need and

want to exist:

My short lived loves

and my instincts

coincide with that of another

Love? There is no love

only instincts

and beyond the cage

There is nothing.


I must I am and

I should be happy

I know myself:

It is not an easy bid

To get a good cage

with all one's needs

A perch for position

and a swing to swing

and the food and the drink

to forget...

Protected from the rain

the cold and the wind

And beyond the cage

there is nothing.



Sometimes a bird

-Is he my own kind?

Flies to our cage

bidding me: Come and try!

what he calls "true freedom"

I am free here, inside

to do as I like.

More so than he is,

in that "Great Beyond"

I do what he cannot do

for the fear of his very life!


He says my cage is shut

and I am imprisoned

Yet it is only locked

to keep out

birds of a different kind

who would eat our food

and the cat who would eat me,

if he had just half a chance!

I am free to do as I wish

right here, in my cage.

Beyond this life

there is no life,

Beyond the cage

there is nothing!


Yet there are birds

trouble makers they are,

Who chirp of 'true' freedom,

that surpasses my freedom

A world of beauty, without limits

with clean air, with high mountains,

Gardens, greens, forests of

trees and streams,

I know there are only five trees,

I see them all, I see no more!

Forests, I saw nothing,

I don't believe they exist!

There is no world beyond my cage,

there is no tree I cannot see!



Here she is again, singing of freedom,

Freedom that is beyond my freedom.

Oh! Alas! It is a beautiful song,

of a limitless world, that is beyond

It sounds glorious, so great

that it is... Frightening!

I'll keep my door locked,

My eyes closed, my ears blocked,

I could loose my perch,

my fun my food and my comforts!

If I was ever tempted to fly out.

Quite frightening! Yet:

It is all a tale, there is no world

Beyond the cage!


Why would I heed a call

to the Great Beyond,

All I have, I want and I need,

is right here, within cage!

Out there, there is sure to be suffering

the hail, the cold and the wind,

The hot Sun, O God, the King!

It is so frightening!

All my friends for whom I care,

lived only within the cage..


Those creatures who call themselves free,

they chirp of a free outside,

Sing of an Exquisite Nightingale

Who sings a Wondrous Song...

Birds are birds, I say

and nothing can change that!

-Why would I need a Great Beyond?

It is all a tale,

There is no life

beyond the cage!





Geelong, 31st August, 1985.


More poetry....


Listen to the Voice...



As you walk along alone on

the eternal road trying to find

your own path in the darkness

be still, take time out 

pause and listen to hear

the Voice of the Beloved.



As you dance to the pulsating

rhythm of disco, rock, or lambada

the loud noise of mega-decibel

hearken the silence, be still

above the din and you'll hear

The Voice of your Lover.



Above the clamour of tanks

fiery slogans, enraged grief

in the racket of flying bullets,

take time out to be at peace,

listen quietly to the inner voice

to the Voice of the Beloved.



When you argue with another

in danger of losing your head

for a moment be still, forget

your anger, stop look up and see,

listen to noble promptings

and hear the Lover of Lovers.



When your stomach rumbles,

hurting from lack of food

Forget your woes for one moment

Be still and listen and hear

above your pain and hunger

The Voice of the Eternal Lover.



When you're in pain and ill

burnt out, lost hope, giving up

Ailing in mind, body and soul

turn to the One Who will heal

Be quiet, tune in and hear

the Voice of your Beloved.



When you're shooting up with drugs,

or killing yourself slowly

with grog, smoke, lead or asbestos,

remember the One Who loves the poor,

the humble, the weak, the sick, the lost,

listen to the Voice of your Lord!



When you've exhausted all you have

to find peace through fear and war

emotion or reason, take a break

from your eternal battle, stop

for one moment, be at peace with all,

listen to the Voice of the Beloved.



As you see the idols of old

toppling, crumbling, falling,

biting the dust as they fall:

Close your ears

to the noise of the rubble,

find a quiet spot be still,

find forgiveness,

listen to the softness

of His voice above it all.


Listen to the silence of your Lord!



Geelong, 25th August, 1991.


Walking the tighrope



A rhythmic roar of


The rhyming rolling of

Written Word,

The warning thunders of


The soothing softness of

love not learnt



A Flash of Lightning of


Or the lifeless lull of

lightless skies,

A screaming pitch of


The joyful facets of

lives revived.



-What is more real?

The shattered lives

The dreadful downs

and breakdowns,

Or the heavenly heights

of paradise

The moments of rapture

and high hopes?



The joyful shouts of


Or the whining laments of

those who lost.

The crumbling, crackling of


Families at war - and

with the world,



The ascent of a truly

United Nations,

Or the beleaguered hordes

of struggling old?



When does the pure

become puritan?

The rebel the

true loyal?

The thief honest,

and the righteous




-Is a mite of self,

A grain of ego

the difference

Between the living

and the dead?



From the basic belief in

human goodness

To the cynical slight of


-Is it far from the border of

Heaven and Hell

To the awestruck wonder of




 Hold my hand, O My Beloved,

as I walk

on the Tightrope,

Accept my surrender

Of self,

For my heavenly hope,

A just reward!



On second thoughts

I expect nothing,

a remote bliss,


A moment of being

Good and well

But often at peace...

Just a tiny love

and a loyal


for my own








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