The Stranger

                                                            The Stranger

                                                                      Kookaburra

Dear Reader,

A kookaburra has been spotted living wild in the Suffolk countryside.  The bird which is a member of the kingfisher family, is native to Australia and is an unusual sight in the UK.  Apparently it has been here for about nine years and has made itself at home.

In favourable conditions kookaburras can live for more than 20 years and have the same partner for life. As small carnivores, kookaburras play an integral role in the ecosystem by controlling small animal populations.

The kookaburra holds significant cultural and mythological importance particularly in indigenous Australian traditions.  Revered as a sacred and powerful creature the kookaburra is often associated with creation stories and spiritual beliefs.

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The poem today I wrote having visited my mother in hospital. I noticed the woman in the next bed was very ill, dying in fact, and not a person attending her.  I held her hand until someone came but I was very shocked and upset.  Gosh I hope my family will be with me when my turn comes.

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From Francis Kilvert  February 24th  1870  in Radnorshhire

'The Black Mountains lighted up grandly, all the furrows and watercourses clear and brilliant.   People coming home from market, birds singing, buds bursting, and the spring air full of beauty, life and hope.'

From D.H.Lawrence February 24th 1916 in Cornwall

'Just at present it is very cold.   It has been blowing here also, and a bit of snow.  Till now the weather has been so mild.  Primroses and violets are out, and the gorse is lovely.  At Zennor one infinite Atlantic, all peacock-mingled colours, and the gorse is sunshine itself, already.  But this cold wind is deadly.'

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The Stranger

 

 

Who are you, stranger,

alone in the hospital bed,

lips blue and pinched,

hands wrinkled and red?

 

You are dying, I know,

although nothing was said.

 

Who were you, stranger,

alone in the hospital bed,

hair now sparse and silver,

but then - was it black, or chestnut, or red,

did it grow in abundance to halo your head?

 

You are dying, I know,

although nothing was said.

 

Who loved you, stranger,

alone in the hospital bed,

now fighting for breath - but then

did children embrace you

whom once you had fed?

Did you have husbands, or daughters, or sons,

or did you have lovers instead?

 

You are dying, I know,

although nothing was said.

 

I love you, stranger,

alone in the hospital bed,

I’m here watching you dying,

and holding your hand,

I see angels flying, coming for you,

my stranger, no longer alone

in the hospital bed.

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia