#davidcauldwellart

[david-cauldwell-art-blog]

BURLESQUE

In the death I will seek thee Through the cavernous tickle of your root system Ushering me off to my next post Will I be held sentinel once more? I hope to dance So in death the cabaret begins With silver limbs I’ll carousel ingl the afterlife Long after the last leaf lost The snow shall fall to celebrate this life in death And then In one sun-drenched moment To the tune of an alpine parrot And a cockatoo ripping off bark We’ll unite in death  And our branches will touch once again

_______________________________________________

The Inspiration

It didn’t matter that it was winter, that the temperature during the day wasn’t going to get above freezing. It didn’t matter either that I’d never been hiking in serious snow before, let alone in snow shoes. 

What awaited on that alpine plateau in Victoria (in Australia’s high country) was a cabaret of dancing snowgums. Alive, these trees have red, yellow, green and grey trunks. The colour is accentuated in snowfall; moisture seems to saturate the hues. What really took my breath away is when I reached a section of dead snowgums. They were so vibrant in death, their silver branches reaching out towards each other as if desperately trying to reconnect. All of the branches in this forest were turned in towards each other. It was like one massive party except all of the attendees were dead. 

I sat in this forest for a while and got a sense of the spirits in these trees, still so present even though they were in various states of decay. Thank you to the snowgums for reminding me that life doesn’t stop after death. 

What experiences have you had to reaffirm that it’s not necessarily lights out after death? Drop me a note (preferably before you drop dead)...

This print is available from www.davidcauldwell.com and comes with the poem.

[david-cauldwell-art-blog]

SYMBIOSIS

Silence, for this is a connection not easily heard Yellow flowers sway in sultry zephyrs Merging, pirouetting pollen throughout the forest Blissfully moved by a force born of surrender I do hereby give myself to this wind Origin unknown, but trusting its thermal thread Spiraling in geometric swirls Indigo corridors to the land where soul tribes roam Sacred caravans devoted to the turning wheel of alignment

The Inspiration:

How many of us stop to ponder the movement of clouds above city skyscrapers? How many of us take time out of busy schedules to go and sit in the forest and watch all of the interactions bustling in Nature?

I lived in a forest for two years, surrounded by nothing but trees on all sides. I had the great joy of eating meals on my balcony, of observing the way the black cockatoos come into the forest a couple of days before of rain. I watched echidnas rummage in the rock wall I built, foraging for ants. I saw glow in the dark blue mushrooms at night. And I realised how everything is interconnected. And how humans are an important link in that process, even though we seem intent on excluding ourselves from a relationship of cooperation, preferring, instead, one of control.

If we don’t listen, then how can Nature divulge its secrets?

What secrets have you divined from Nature? Share any magical sit spots or tales of Nature connection in the comments below…

Prints available from www.davidcauldwell.com. Each one comes with its own unique poem.