WRIGHT, JUDITH

That impulse I think is a form of love. Poetry is something that comes to you, rather than your having to work out its form beforehand.

WRIGHT, JUDITH

I think through life you change all the time. Sometimes you know you’re changing, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you just find that something isn’t there any longer that was there. It isn’t sad. It’s just right.

WRIGHT, JUDITH

WRIGHT, JUDITH – Gum-Trees Stripping

Wisdom can see the red, the rose,
the stained and sculptured curve of grey,
the charcoal scars of fire, and see
around that living tower of tree
the hermit tatters of old bark
split down and strip to end the season;
and can be quiet and not look
for reasons past the edge of reason.

WRIGHT, JUDITH - Gum-Trees Stripping

WRIGHT, JUDITH

Love is a very important part of life, and you have to give in to it. But after a while it ceases to be such an important force in life, and that’s the time when you should give in to age and stop doing it, if you don’t have the impulse any more.

WRIGHT, JUDITH

WRIGHT, JUDITH – Camphor Laurel

Here in the slack of night
the tree breathes honey and moonlight.
Here in the blackened yard
smoke and time and use have marred.
leaning from that fantan gloom
the bent tree is heavy in bloom.

WRIGHT, JUDITH - Camphor Laurel

WRIGHT, JUDITH – To Hafiz of Shiraz

Now that I know that each star has its path, each bird is finally feathered and grown in the unbroken shell, each tree in the seed, each song in the life laid down – is the night sky any less strange; should my glance less follow the flight; should the pen shake less in my hand.

WRIGHT, JUDITH - To Hafiz of Shiraz