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Falling Slowly

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We are all falling down
Tumbling and spinning
Through a blind whirlpool,
Arms and legs whirling,
Passing faces
Whose blank expressions
Show patient resignation.


We sat high up on rocks
Above the plain
Looking over to the western sky
Where the harsh light
Outlined giant fleecy clouds
In burning silver.

We contemplated our lost past,
Our youthful paradise,
Our now broken,
Extended family tribes.
We talked of children, elders, violence,
Pollution and ecology.


“No one cares anymore,”
Said Billy, his black skin
Squinting around his eyes
Shielding them from the burning light,
“It was a peak before,
We were on top of the world then,
Like we are now, looking down.”


I looked, squinting, at the burning clouds.
Yes, I thought to myself, 

and still do
We were on top of a wave then,
Laughing, surging.
But as time went on
The wave started to break.
Our position on the sine wave of life
Moved from the peak
And slid towards the trough
But as we started to slide down
The pattern changed,
The line, the slide,
Dropped away faster each year
Until now we are almost vertical
And are no longer sliding.


We are falling down,
Tumbling   and spinning

Through a slow whirlpool
Arms and legs whirling,

Passing faces

Whose blank expressions

Show patient resignation.





... I found an old flash drive  full of poetry and stories  :)


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16 hours ago, Nungali said:


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... I found an old flash drive  full of poetry and stories  :)



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More falling ?


This one is a true story ;


She stepped off‭!
Oh God‭! ‬How could she have done that‭?‬

What space must your head be in‭ ‬to be able to do that‭?‬

She stepped off,‭ ‬I imagine,‭ ‬calm and serene,‭ ‬

not screaming and clawing‭ ‬and falling down,‭ ‬down‭

‬but streaming through‭ ‬the layers of swirling mist

to the rainforest floor below‭;‬
like a rainbow arching down‭

‬to ground itself‭ ‬in the earth.

She stepped off‭ ‬

beside the plunging waterfall,‭ ‬

at the top of the vast vertical rock abyss,‭

‬at the head of the steep,‭ ‬deep,‭ ‬twisting serpentine gorge.

Right at the top of the world,‭

r‬right at the top of her world,‭

‬she stepped off.


Right at the top of her world,‭ ‬

young,‭ ‬beautiful and healthy,‭ ‬(they told me‭)‬

the last person in the world‭ ‬

you would ever imagine‭

‬that would do such a thing.


I have stood on that very spot‭

‬and tentatively peered over the edge‭

‬into that vast vertical chasm,‭ ‬

watching the water racing down‭

‬and turn to spray‭

‬and felt that urge to fly myself,‭ ‬

down to the rainforest below‭

‬and quivered‭ ‬and tried to inch back‭ ‬from that spot,‭ ‬

the‭ ‬inexorable force‭ ‬drawing me down‭

‬to where the tops‭ ‬of the giant rainforest trees‭ ‬

are bunched together‭

‬like far away broccoli.


‭"‬Get away from there‭!"‬ a voice shouted.‭

‬I turned‭ ‬(without falling‭)‬

the old‭ '‬Uncle‭' ‬emerged from the bush.‭

‬He took my arm,‭ ‬pulled me from the edge‭

‬and looked deep into my eyes.
We sat‭ ‬staring into each other‭

‬by the swirling pool,‭

‬his black,‭ ‬crystal eyes‭ ‬surveying my pain,‭
his dark skin‭ ‬wrinkled from searching my face.
‭"‬It's the tail of the Rainbow Serpent.‭"‬ Gunabar told me.‭

‬"The twisted gorge is his body.‭

‬You have to be careful here,‭

‬you'll fall right into it.‭"‬

He talked.‭ ‬I asked questions.‭

‬He looked at me-‭ ‬through me.‭

‬"You ask me questions,‭ ‬

questions about energies and places.‭

‬I'd say to you‭ ‬...‭”‬ Gunabar said to me,‭

‬"...‭ ‬It's all about love.‭ ‬

It all comes down to love,‭

‬from your heart.‭"


And then I heard the story‭ ‬for the first time.
‭"‬Not long ago‭

‬a young white girl‭ ‬from around here,‭

‬stepped off the edge....‭

‬It's not the first time.‭ ‬

She was happy‭ ‬they said.‭

‬Nice girl,‭ ‬good job,‭ ‬nice car.‭ ‬

Why did she do it‭?‬

They didn't understand.‭

‬She left a note at the top,‭

‬I found that note,‭;

‬'I‭ ‬couldn’t find love anywhere,‭' ‬it said

‭ ‬‘the only place I could find love was here‭'‬.‭ ‬

That's all it said.‭ ‬

She left that note at the top of the waterfall‭ ‬and stepped off.‭"


My heart was shaking,‭

‬my eyes watering,‭ ‬

a giant ball of emotion was surfacing‭

‬from some deep part‭ ‬inside myself.‭

‬I looked down the valley.‭ ‬

I turned and looked‭ ‬into Gunabar's eyes.‭

‬They were like black far away pools,‭

‬they were like places I have never seen.

‭"‬The white people didn't understand,‭

‬ I understand.‭"‬ he told me.‭

‬"They had a service‭ ‬at the top of the falls,‭

‬they floated flowers‭ ‬in the pool at the top.‭

‬I floated a broken branch and a broken boomerang‭ ‬-‭‬

- symbols of a broken life.‭

‬My offering went over the edge.‭

‬The flowers‭ ‬didn’t,‭

‬they got stuck in a whirlpool‭ ‬at the top,‭

‬I gently pushed them over the edge with a stick.‭"


I have since returned‭ ‬

and stood in that very place,‭

‬high above the clouds‭

‬and been drawn again‭

‬to that roaring air.‭ ‬

That same place‭ ‬

where Gunabar told me that story.‭

‬Not at the edge‭ ‬beside the falls‭

‬but around the side,‭

‬near the lookout‭ ‬

where you can see the whole drop.‭

‬And I‭ ‬can’t help thinking‭

‬what space must your head be in‭ ‬

to be able to do that‭?


The shock of the first news‭ ‬is still there.‭

‬It probably always will be there.‭ ‬

She stepped‭ ‬off...‭

‬Oh God,‭ ‬how could she‭?‬

So now I sit,‭

‬inexorably drawn‭ ‬

and look at the view,‭

‬the drop,‭ ‬the falls‭

‬and I imagine‭ ‬that young,‭ ‬beautiful girl,‭

‬that child of nature,‭

‬feeling so much love‭ ‬

but finding it nowhere else,‭

‬gazing out over the mountains,‭

‬head held high,‭

‬standing on the edge,

‭ ‬beside the plunging,‭

‬roaring,‭ ‬drawing‭ ‬water‭ ‬

and‭ ‬gently...‭stepping on the air.


I imagine her‭ ‬

calm and serene,‭

‬smiling and streaming down,‭ ‬down,‭

‬the spark of her soul‭ ‬a streaming meteor‭ ‬

accelerating through the air,‭ ‬

down,‭ ‬down‭

‬through the layers of swirling mist,‭

‬hurtling towards‭ ‬the far away‭

‬now zooming closer‭

‬broccoli forest below.


Not screaming and falling down‭

‬but plunging,‭ ‬unstoppable,‭

‬totally committed‭

‬into love.





Ellenbourough Falls








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