For Pete – and the Great Mystery
For nearly three weeks over Christmas the air was filled with white butterflies
clouds and clouds of ‘Brown-Veined Whites’
passing through our lives
from where? to where? in a North Easterly direction
laying their new eggs where?
billions of caterpillars eating what?
There was a cobra in the chicken run yesterday
We watched enthralled as the drama played out:
one cobra in the corner
one baby rat, feet-up, in the middle of the floor
one mother rat perched in the dry stone wall
five uncomprehending chickens
and five humans (safely out of spitting distance)peering through the fence
The cobra slid its head through the stones to our side of the wall
and the chickens surrounded in rapt admiration
eyeball to eyeball
as it flicked its tongue with an unblinking stare
the mother rat tried to dash in and rescue the dead baby
and the cobra flashed back
and we sat
in silence
waiting
the cobra – invisible in the dry stone wall
the mother rat – indivisible in the dry stone wall
the dead baby in the centre of the floor
the chickens returned to their small world,
pecking the ground
and five humans were left wondering…
Mel cleaned the leaves off his roof last week
The bush babies who live between his roof and ceiling
- terrified by the sudden commotion
left the safety of their daytime hideout
and fled into the canopy of the trees
All day, the birds came to scream and shout and flap
what where these new creatures in their territory?
small fluffy nocturnal creatures
clutching the branches
staring around them with huge worried eyes
finally, as dusk drew in and the birds settled
they began, again, their nightly dance through the canopy
in search of gum and fruit
(and the avocado we put on the feeding tray)
good day, bad day
life goes on
This morning, two paradise flycatchers are dancing round the old nest
could they are interested in using it?
are they the same pair?
(Kate says they are commemorating the birth and death of their eggs last month)
As Pete grows weaker
we sit with him in his bedroom
old friends, old stories
threading back through a tapestry of shared meals, holidays, childrens’ parties and celebrations
watching the light change the colour of the canopy
through the wide bay windows
the first flush of sunrise
to the last echoes of sunset shown in rosy flashes on tall trees
until the darkness begins to close in
and we catch a small glimpse of the universe
from our tiny turning planet
Do we dare ask
what is the Great Mystery?
name it and classify it and prove it?
Or do we become it?
a deeply buried knowing
that we are part of something wider than ourselves
stardust
ancient mountains
distant oceans
newly turned earth
old breath – new breath
part of the current flowing through the now
balancing the contradictions of living in pain and beauty