black nails, black teeth
and an old, tattered coat.
You’d dismiss him as derelict
and walk straight past.
Yet when he spoke
and I glimpsed infinity.
“I’m a storyteller”
His stories wove spells
of dreaming and meaning.
The universe expanded,
and I felt for a moment
that I touched its limits.
The essence of truth
lies perhaps in all three.
Today I left something undone that I wish I had done – though perhaps others may say I’m foolish to think so.
I was driving into the Dandenongs (a local mountain range) and had turned into a road that winds its way for about 10 minutes by car up the mountainside towards the town of Sassafras.
Just around the corner, before this road begins to twist and climb in earnest, I saw three young lads trying to hitch a ride. Probably in their late teens or early twenties, all with short hair and casually dressed in t-shirts and jeans. That’s all I could tell from the quick glimpse I caught of them as, even while my foot hesitated over the brake pedal, I drove on by.
And basically that’s the end of my story.
I can hear you all now:
“But of course!”
“You did the right thing.”
“Three young men? You’d have been stupid to stop.”
A chorus of reason and common sense? Yes, that’s true.
But what if I’d hit the brake instead of the accelerator? A different story plays in my head … [Read more…]
It was written after a touring holiday, during which we stopped in a small country town called Carcoar in New South Wales.
Intending to stop for just a short break – to stretch our legs and enjoy the scenery – we came across a wee art gallery. A ‘brief chat’ with the artist became a fascinating four hour conversation with him and a friend of his! [Read more…]