Mabin's Well

This is just a draft for the moment, although it's a fairly well developed one.

I wrote this poem about a place near my home town of Coleambally. I haven't been there, as is stated in the poem, and there is something about the idea of the place that repels me from doing so. I'm not really sure what it is - it could be that it's someone's private property.

It's more of a metaphor for being unadventurous, and at this point in my life, that sums a lot about me. I'm sick of being adventurous, I want to just get to my goals already. I want to achieve my university goals and it has proved quite difficult in the past to do this. I just want to move on with my life, but I guess I feel as though uni is holding me down, but also holding me up at the same time.

It's something of a dichotomy, I suppose, but dichotomies generally make for good poetry.



Mabin's Well

Mabin's Well is a hole
In my mind, as I trundle
Down the street.
It's a place I've never been:
A stone well on the hidden
Boundary marked out by
Frightful birds.

Someone whispered on
The usually silent street
That they'd never been there
And didn't know anyone that had.
I was foolish to believe
No-one could read
My silent thoughts here.

I kept walking on air,
Dreaming of that place.
But then I knew I had to look up,
Look up, keep looking up -
Like a brolga that could
Smell the impending storm.

The clouds parted like a
Flower of the hour
Fully realising its beauty
And I knew that Mabin was
A gate to another place,
Another time.

Things tend to dawn on me
In bursts of light, beams that
Cannot create shadows.

I suppose it's how I breathe.

I will fly there one day,
Even if I have to wait until
Until I'm no longer
Beneath these wings,
But inside a boat
That isn't afraid
To moor on the water's edge.