by Earl Livings

That dazzle tree down the path
with its reels of red flowers,
roots that cling, sap that flows
past robust rings of heartwood,
green that springs from light, turns
to light, is one note in the wild
song, earth, water, sun, quickening.

That noisy miner diving into green,
casting out the vivid lorikeet, calling
its mate to feed on thriving nectar,
flitting from branch to rippling branch,
sliding itself into flight and sigh,
is one note in the song of wing
and counterpoint air, quivering.

The eye that watches, the mouth agape
before and after murmuring praise,
the breath pulsing through the blood,
the hand pushing up from the bench—
grace notes wheeling and dealing
with each clamour of deep silence
we all recall so well, keening.

• Fritsch Holzer Park,
  Hawthorn East, VIC
  early autumn, 2025