Tag: Poetry/Australia

In the hush between treetops, sky, and the distant sun, small moments of flight remind us how quietly the world keeps holding on

Dependable

From the resilient treetops,
the curious crows know
the honourable sun never stops —
rain, sleet, or snow.

Warming our souls
from light-years away,
yet far outreaching
our ordinary day.

And beyond the crows’
resourceful thinking,
where the sky’s mystical banjos
are perpetually playing

And somewhere beneath all this light and shadow, we keep finding the strength to rise again.

Ivor Steven  ©  May 2026

In the hush of a grey autumn morning, two birds wheel away into the distance, leaving behind a question only the sky can answer.

How and Why


Two silhouettes fluttering in the sky,
Together, the shadows swoop by.
Flying among Autumn’s silent clouds,
There above Humanity’s rowdy crowd.

They gaze down and wonder how
That lawless mob did somehow allow
Nature’s garden to become holier-than-thou.

The birds quietly turn and wave goodbye
And decide: theirs not to reason why.

As the birds wheel away from the how and why, step with the music into the space where the poem’s questions still linger.

Here are a few lyrics from “We Lost The Sea – A Quiet Place.”

“Abandon control, obey gravity
From here, earth’s claw cannot over bare

I hear nothing, dead silence
I grasp as comfort
I pilot limbs as if they were wings
Carve through the clouds
Plummet to the below
I pilot limbs”



Ivor Steven  ©  May 2026

On our buckled bloc, innocence stands alone on thinning ground.

Our Buckled Bloc


Have we lost the plot?
Here, on our buckled bloc.

The planet is still spinning,
but the environment is shrinking.

The polar bears are dying;
isolated, Nature is only surviving
and is visibly crying.

The land is scarred and blistered,
the oceans unwisely polluted,
and even the air we breathe is tainted.

Here’s a song to wander with through the world we’ve weathered.

Ivor Steven  ©  May 2026

After wrestling with the usual tangle of messages and mischief‑makers, I stepped onto the track for a breath of real air. The wattlebirds were already there, perched and unbothered, reminding me that the sky has no time for scammers or phishers — and neither should I.

Wattlebirds Are No Log-jammers

After wading through my pool of emails,
the clean-up I had planned did fail.
Anyhow, it was time for my morning walk
among nature’s wattlebirds and hawks.
Despite the cool, misty rain
The refreshing breeze will clear my foggy brain

Not far along the wet, winding track,
I see a wattlebird having a peaceful nap,
perched high up in the tree’s branches,
oblivious to humanity’s modern advances.

Beautiful wattlebirds are not log-jammers,
river phishers, or honey scammers
They are free to do as they please
and can fly away from any tight squeeze.

A small reminder that the sky is always wider than the noise.

Ivor Steven  ©  May 2026