The Dream: number ten

the walked upon path
folds round the back
of my head

my eyes get lost
in the space

as my shoulders hang
in the cupboard in the
corner of your room

with my grandmothers hands
I draw you close

the throat releases
a silent cry

my spine the paddle
to row my lost boat
to the safety
of your shore

The Dream: number nine

the golden coin
still under my pillow
your treasure map
well hidden
without spoken words
just a heart that loves you
strung between the tears
rolling toward the golden
threads on your shirt

to be loved

I'll stay awake
and keep the wolves away
the lights will dim
and the earth will go cold
but I will be here

he has my heart....

Yesterday I received an email from my dear friend Sean.  I am so grateful for him... ----------



Forwarded message ---------- From: "Sean Ross"
Date: 15/02/2013 2:12 PM Subject: 
To: "Sarah Martin" 

I really enjoyed your piece, 'Yesterday, I cried....'   Thank you for sharing that with me. It sounds like there's been an enormous amount of growth in your life. I'm very proud of you, Sarah, and feel certain you'll continue to go from stength to strength, from hereon in. I'm sure you will prove to be an inspiration to others, yourself, in years to come.   

I love you xoxox 



Sean is one of the most talented, beautiful people I know. He wrote this heartfelt touching account of how we became friends, hopefully this gives an insight to how precious he is to me..... At the time I first met Sarah Martin, I had not long auditioned for Maestro Vladimir Vais, and was about to embark upon an exciting new exploration into the art of orchestral conducting. Sarah, herself, was in the throes of completing an Arts degree; majoring in creative writing. Having tired of the few months' exertion I'd endured at the diary factory in Collingwood, I had been searching further afield, for employment that would both complement, and add variety to, my ushering job with the Marriner Theatres. 


Surprisingly, I unearthed an advertisement for the charity fundraising company, Communication Direct, which just so happened to be located in the same neighbourhood as the diary factory. Sarah and I were in the same large group of new employees; commencing work together on the 25th of November, 1999. It was not until around the year 2001, however, that we actually became close friends. In fact, I can't even recall noticing Sarah amidst the throng of new employees, at induction; such were the sheer numbers of people being employed by the company, at the time.        


Indeed, although C.D. was a relatively small, 'boutique-style' affair, at the time the services of Sarah and mine were enlisted, it was nonetheless experiencing a boom in business. Whilst the company would later come to consolidate the full range of its commitments, quite drastically (perhaps having over-extended itself, and in so doing, over-estimated its ability to deliver satisfactory results to a number of the charities concerned), initially, Sarah and I worked on behalf of such charities as the Red Cross, Diabetes Victoria, Arthritis and Osteoporosis Victoria, and another one or two such organizations, whose names seem to have escaped my memory. We worked between the hours of 5pm and 9pm and, for the most part, were engaged in 'cold calling': prevailing upon the public to assist the charities we represented, by accepting a small book of raffle tickets; either to on-sell or to purchase outright, themselves. Originally, the nature of the job appealed to me, because it appeared to be a relatively easy and mindless one, which would no doubt afford me the chance to channel the greater part of my mental energy into my various creative endeavours.        


At the time we actually became bosom buddies, Sarah had yet to undergo the inner metamorphosis that would ultimately produce the strikingly self-assured individual that she had always been, deep down. What I came to admire most about Sarah was her quiet maturity and general nobility of character, coupled with her keen sense of good, old-fashioned fun! Just over two years my junior, Sarah became akin to a second sister, to me; showering light into what would otherwise have been a considerably dull working environment. In turn, Sarah seemed to be inspired by my drive; the sense of purpose and meaning with which my life was imbued. Not having had a clear sense of what she most wanted from life, this very sense of purpose was something to which she aspired, herself. Whilst not endowed with the soul of an artist, as such (as was the case with her mother, Mary Martin), Sarah was nevertheless possessed of quite a creative vein, herself; something which became manifestly expressed in her creative writing. Over time, Sarah became my best girlfriend. We both came to confide in one another our innermost thoughts and feelings; both joyous and disconsolate, alike.         


Perhaps what I remember most fondly about the 'Communication Direct' chapter of our lives is the fun we had at the weekend parties Sarah hosted, at her Grandma's house (where she lived for around four years). Naturally, these hotly-anticipated social events were contrived so as to impinge neither upon her Grandma's liberties, nor her general peace of mind! They were scheduled only on weekends when her Grandma had arranged to stay with other relatives, and presented Sarah with the rare opportunity of being able to lose herself in a state of self-induced oblivion! In an effort to further magnify her enjoyment of these excursions into mindless frivolity, Sarah made repeated attempts to lure me into a similar state of dulled consciousness, but alas, to no avail. Not being as fond of spirits (of the alcoholic variety, at any rate), I could never bring myself to match her level of intoxication!        


I shall forever be indebted to Sarah for the rare and precious gift of her enduring friendship. Her love and support over the years have been truly unconditional. She is a refreshingly non-judgmental person, who has successfully managed to retrieve my head from amidst the clouds, whenever it was in danger of being lost, there!    

 ~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 I am honored to call him my friend and thank him for this beautiful tribute to our friendship. A friendship that has never changed even with space and time.....

Apart from night

by full moon
love whispered
in the breeze
the quest
felt strong
there is no place
apart from night

the men who haven't thrown me from the train

yesterday I cried at work.

yesterday I cried in my manager's office.

yesterday I cried.

I have always had this thing about not being emotional at work and by  showing emotion you are in a sense showing a sign of weakness; I know crying is not weakness, it's an expression of feeling overwhelmed and this bubbling emotion inside needs to be released.

yesterday I cried.

Four months ago I was thrown into a leadership position where I became the supervisor for a division in our contract, Citipower Special Reading.

I never thought that I would be in this position, I never thought I had the capacity to lead people. I never believed I would be given an opportunity to take this role.

yesterday I cried.

I have had four believers in my court....actually as I write that I realise I have a lot of believers.  However, professionaly I have four clear front runners.

Paul McCann our Operations Manager, he's my friend firstly, but he's always been an advocate of mine at work. He's a perfect example of how I want to lead people....

Sean Keuneman my contract manager who I am grateful for the trust he has in me.  Unfortunately we have over my three years with Servicestream had some testing times personally, yet I have come to realise the heart on his sleeve is purely that, a heart.....you can't deny the heart.

Michael Hill who no longer works with us, but he, I think, started mentoring me long before I showed any potential, I see that now.....I will always be grateful for his presence in my life.

Finally Matt Mannix.  He was the reason I cried yesterday.  He is my biggest advocate, he has believed in my ability, tested my capability, put pressure, shown me how to lead, shown compassion, worked with my strengths and encouraged.  I have trusted whole heartedly in him and I thank him for the times he has been in the direct firing line of my impatience, frustrations my self disappointment but ultimately my eagerness to be the best I can be.

Yesterday I cried because of that, and I sit here now filling with that same emotion.

These men have never stopped believing in me even when I have....

for that I am grateful....

my heart is caught

today you came back
I couldn't lock my eyes
into yours
I search for the exit
gasping on air
remembering I did love

The Dream: number 8

in the middle of the night
you lie in the darkness
you rollout your soul
and I pick at its seams
as your eyes ripple
over me like
the mile long creek
flowing through my veins

Gratitude in Pain

Sometimes I even wonder if being a good person, with true, honest and good intention serves you well in a place and time when people who lie, cheat and disrespect others have equally the same "right".

I use the word right somewhat loosely.  We ALL have equal rights and needs and a level of deserved respect, but I wonder where that stops.

I NEVER want to use my platform here to grandstand my ideas or beliefs, I never want to use it for negativity or anger, I want this to be a place of peace, love and joy.

Writing does serve me well, writing gives me clarity, writing will ALWAYS be a voice I cant change.

Today I received some news, that can possibly have the ability to effect the path forward.

I am grateful that these past few months have taught me to breathe and to breathe through what potentially a few months back I would easily have allowed myself to fall in a darkness.......

I am grateful.....

The Dream: number 7

locked into memory
suffocating in fear
like concrete                          
poured into my lung
to harden
with your handprint            
pressed into me

Jackson the boy who brought joy

Today my godson/nephew started kindergarten.

Tonight we celebrated his first day by going out and having as he said "fancy" icrcream.

Seeing his joy and listening to him re-tell his adventure from the day filled me with so much love for him.

Oh I will add Miss Isabel also celebrated her first day at kinder, "I big girl...."

My love for them is full of pure joy

The Dream: number 6

she fell from me
covered in my love
her eyes tightly shut
clutching at my soul

grateful for that that feeds my soul

Looking toward gratitude has given me comfort, after a really testing day.

I'm grateful for getting a ride home from work from Paul always great conversation, great music, laughter (soul food) and not having to face public transport, soooooo grateful for that.

I'm grateful for the amazing dinner my grandmother cooked for me, always feeds me on many levels.  Spending time with her is priceless, I am a better person because of her and all she is in my life.

I'm grateful for the music of Imelda May...I can become anything through music :-) (more soul food!!)

And as I'm about to switch the light off on today I receive an sms from my friend Melanie telling me she loved the  poem I posted on here this morning.  Her support and belief makes the writing journey rewarding.  Her friendship makes me a better forever developing Sarah, and for that I am grateful.....

Lastly I am grateful that tomorrow will present a new opportunity to do see and create better...

The Dream: number 5

I saw your brother yesterday
I sat behind him on the bus
I wanted to ask him about you 
I thought he looked back at me
I felt the clenching of my hand
I remembered the sand on my skin
I watched the clouds gather     
I tasted the salt on my lips       
I still held you in my heart

Grateful for Anna

Today I had coffee with a friend who I have not seen in almost two years.  I was nervous...

Some friendships no matter what time or space present, can for some unknown reason, survive.

I met Anna during our time at the cafe, she was a loyal customer, who became a friend, and at that time I was grateful.

In the beginning of our friendship, Anna was possibly going through one of the toughest things we all will ever experience; the death of her mother.   I am glad that at that time I could be there for her.

We parted ways, Anna started the beginning of a new career (which I might add is truly flourishing now!!) and I too was on a different path, having finished up at the cafe, travelling and finding a new career for myself.

But we never lost contact, even when not seeing each other that often, in fact, due to circumstance, having not spent any time together for two years.

Two days ago she entered my mind, and I sent her a SMS just saying hi, and hoping she was doing OK.

Today we caught up over a coffee.

Anna had not changed (do we ever anyway!!) the warmth of her being just pushed me back in my chair, her presence comforting....

Today I am grateful for Anna.....

Morning beliefs....

I've just began reading Believing is Seeing by Laura Lawson. In 2010 I Googled "visually impaired writer" and she was the first in my search and ever since I have been following her written and visual journey, I follow her relationship with Instagram and her amazing shots and now she is a published writer.

She too lives with Retinitis Pigmentosa and she continually affirms the belief, as the title of her book announces BELIEVING IS SEEING....thank you Laura....check out Laura's blog at http://lauralawsonart.com/blog

I have just reached page 26 where Laura talks about night vision or lack of and how in company, walking and navigating is best done by linking arms and mirroring the stride of someone close.

It instantly made me think of my aunt Nicole, who is by far the greatest guide for me. She gets me places, she doesn't wait for me to process the "what ifs" or me becoming a victim....we get going and I know I need to trust her more than I do because by not trusting I make it harder for her.

I am grateful for you Nicole (for many reasons!!!) and for this I love you....