there we are - seated in a tight circle, sharing ridiculously obscure foodless recipes, smiles creasing our cheeks, eyes alive with belonging.  our laughter so loud, it rises above the rain, bequeathed to us by bundoola, that has plagued and cleansed us all week long.  the last poem recited.  one final applause.  the deluge intensifies as we crawl inside our thoughts: the drone of a dozen didgeridoos resonating through the walls into the earth's imagination; the swathe of expired newspapers - delicately dissected, words and phrases collected, then stuck beside charcoal leaves; the frantic two minute sketches brought to life with paint; the story of an ancient spirit - reinterpreted, retold, recorded.  each idea, each utterance, each breath - observed and understood by the river.  the sleek expansive liquid songline carries our question marks downstream. no one is ready.  we remain seated, clinging tightly to the magic. the sky darkens.  the downpour deafening.  the raindrops burst into possibility...

 

 

 

Jonathan wrote 'the river' during his time as poet laureate for Oolong House as part of Clubs and Societies.

Oolong House provides residential treatment for Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal men, who wish to regain their lives and manage problems linked to alcohol and other drugs.After 16 weeks, program graduates may move to the half-way house and keep involved in the activity programs as mentors and workers.

Website: http://www.oolonghouse.org.au