Post-Warburton Yarn

Been to Warburton, close to the source of the Yarra River, with my lover.
Getting to an interfaith ashram, feeling the power of the land,
sharing doctrine with the Yogi and the Priest while having tea
on a Sunday evening
after
a walk (beginning with banana) to and from Lala falls.
On Monday, a slice of Californian Redwoods,
surreally planted in rows
on the Western edges of the Eastern Victorian Yarra Ranges,
an afternoon yarning with a Catholic woman, still searching.

A thought of just settling there
a young retirement, not quite:
more a renewed dedication to spiritual practice and study,
a privileged space for magic.

A Buddhist monastery with by-donation lunch & retreat,
a love of breathing, river and bush.

The Spell of the Sensuous
A memory of some younger dayze.

Other possibilities abound.

I drink red wine to prevent heart attack, and hope for the best.