The Line
The Line
like a tune in your head
that cannot be heard
that fades away when you listen
like spider silk
glimpsed as it drifts
unanchored and aimlessly glistening
like a bright curl of metallic thread
after the fabric has shredded
and it is freed from the pattern
like the arc of light
when a star falls at night
but the rest of its path is hidden
like the travelling dot of fire
between a flame and explosive desire
when the fuse is just a segment
like the curving words never read
and the things that never got said
but they hum along your nerves in searing fragments
like patterns in the air
that are not really there
just the glowing afterburn of a party sparkler
like certainty amid complex confusion
like faith when all is illusion
comes a vision of the one true line
Edith Speers
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
Aug 29 2024
6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
Aug 20 2024
23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
Aug 16 2024
2 mins