Blackbutt Towers

A poetic reflection on expectations, aspirations and illuminations.

He picked a sprig of lavender
And held it to his nose
To ease the pain of passing rumour;

The slow enthralling throb
Of effort without recourse,
And nightmares masquerading real.

The Never Never forest of Dorrigo National Park (2023).

Lost among those boastful blackbutt towers
He felt he almost knew her name.
It was in their tangled, obtrusive roots ...
It faded wisely away again.

He knows it's time for the final wager,
And this one will demand, 'All in.'
Will he wager on a tower
Or on a flower in the wind?

May the flower chase the name
And illume the long dark way.
Let him leave the blackbutt towers;
On the path, Lord let him stay.