Rosemary Nissen-Wade: Aussie poet and teacher of metaphysics – a personal view
My bestie nicknamed me SnakyPoet on her blog, and I liked it. (It began as
'the poet of the serpentine Northern Rivers' and became more and more abbreviated.)
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Saturday, March 26, 2011

Writer's Journal (exercise): On the paper

It was tricky trying to retrieve it with the traffic whizzing past, but I just had to. It was extraordinary that the piece of paper  was still lying there in the middle of the road; must have been dropped not long before, or maybe it had already blown from somewhere else. One folded piece of A4. What could it be?

Well, I scrunched myself against the side of the car as horns around us tooted, and scrambled back in during a break in the traffic. Then I unfolded it. No! It was all in dense markings, sort of like hieroglyphics or something. Geometric shapes anyhow, covering it from edge to edge. Some were repeated in patterns … yes, it appeared to be a kind of language, but not one I could read. When I turned it around and looked at it from every angle, some bits appeared a bit like the spaces in crop circles — you know, concentric rings and all that, with lines between them.

Meanwhile  John was driving, and going mad with frustration.

'Well, what the hell is it then? Aren’t you even going to read it to me?'

'I wish I could.' I said. 'I think it was dropped by space people or something. I think it’s a message from the Great Beyond, but I wish they’d learn English.'

'If they did,' said John, 'Probably no-one would believe them. Who can we take it to for translation?'

Damned if I know! One of those UFO experts perhaps? Pretty though, isn’t it?'

He stole a glimpse.

'Looks a bit of a mess to me.'

That night I set my intention to discover the meaning in my dreams, and to remember it afterwards. Never did that before but it seemed like as good a possibility as any. Both ways I was in for a surprise! You’d never guess!


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