Francesca Cairns's Blog

What a wonderful launch!

It was standing room only at the beachside vintage hall at Blythe Heads with 5o people gathering for the celebration of Falling for Water by Francesca Cairns.

Nettie Hume was the MC and there was a beautiful sharing by Cassie Smith, North West Environment Centre & Manager ecofest26:

This book has reminded me that water, memory, nature, and human spirit are all bound together.

It has reminded me to pause, to listen, to act, and to trust. 

Sue Young from Ashwood Publishing spoke about the many years of crafting the novel that had ‘distilled the essence of the story’.

Fran then spoke of the mystery, magic and wonder of water and shared a short reading.

If you missed the in-person launch there are two opportunities to join Fran in an online version:

https://events.humanitix.com/falling-for-water-by-francesca-cairns-book-launch

First light

earth’s light rim greyed with storm.

First awareness born as

wind’s realm swirls

whispering promise of your coming…

Full rounded belly pregnant cloud

hangs,

waiting,

as do I…

Electric

otherworld rumbles

as you turn my way

and I taste, in the flaring intensity,

your elemental urgency

for expression,

for connection,

for release.

Spilling beyond

its exquisite tension

slow drops fall,

seeking always

the lowest,

the deepest

union

of all.

Rhythm builds and I wonder

if you,

and I,

as rain does for earth,

will ease

for the other

this archaic thirst.

2006

As a shift in the current,

a quickening,

you appear through my day

to play across my lips

as a smile

that lightens these eyes.

Ethereal one,

shimmering at the edge of my psyche,

how strangely you touch my senses

From afar…

Could I,

from here

reach for your hand

and thank you

for the wave of possibility

breaking through my soul.

2006

It’s been a long time, old friend,

made longer by the fullness of years passing.

No doubt your life, like mine,

was flush with chapters

of life insistent,

laying claim to every precious irredeemable moment.

Dislodging the last, replacing the past

with that ceaseless passion for next page,

the next story, the next truth.

Yet death, like life,

refuses time,

to take seriously

the measure we apportion.

Spun straight back to times and travels,

of meals and madness,

to memories shared.

You and I so young and wild,

and sometimes brave.

To the endless future

that ran unquestionably

from our age-tender fingertips.

They tell me now your body

is worn and waning,

from the weight of that very same

irrepressible time.

My wish is that the wonder was enough.

That the ways love touched your life

thrilled, and nourished.

And that others, as I,

will remember with a warming delight

that reckless liberty of the time

when we were friends together.

Today I watched over the fjord

counting the years

since I fell into the ocean of your loving.

Captivated, as the water

in fathoms immeasurable,

between sculpted cliff and boulder,

leaning shoulder to shoulder,

like the hours and days passing.

Keepers of memory and time,

these ancient guides,

scribe watermarks indelibly in their sides.

Adrift I glide free.

Buffeted by wind and fierce lunar tide

like the crevices of loose scree

that tumble and fall in random play

coming to rest as they lay

held by one,

balanced by the other.

Light dances reflecting the radiance in your eyes,

illuminating depths that sway to the longing of the moon,

as eternal and mysterious

as my love for you.

2016

Drawn back to the café

my friend smiles, welcoming.

And I am reminded of those

who trust in the thread

of tangibility

that defines my life

line.

Who take what I cannot see

and reflect with angles,

subtle and unexpected,

the nature of my presence

on their path.

Crazy it feels, as if we seek the same

yet for you… from this man…  for another

And I? I would be with you.

Feel you feel me

then ache as you turn away again..

Talking concessions,

Grieving already the limitations you’re finding.

For whose sake? this compromise,

this complicity of hearts.

And mine?

Too full, and too empty

for the lees of your loving.

Love whispered its promise in my ear,

lingering,

as though with longing echoed.

Trailed its fingers across my body,

through my resistance

into my heart.

Teasing with the touch of delight,

the thrill of possibility…

and fled.

Weighing the words
I might whisper into the darkness
would I measure their worth
on scales of time,
of depth,
of intensity?
Or would their very weightlessness
set the measure
of the freedom
that has graced my soul
with your presence.