On the banks of the Joojilyup Blackwood again
near its mouth in Tallinup Augusta.

We’re on another work call 
and I’m looking out the window
at all the water
rushing in between the shore
and a sand bar 
near the river’s centre.

There are people on stand-up paddle boards,
dogs, kids—many of them swimming across the current 
to stand on the bar mid-river.

Limestone lines the other bank, far over.
The ospreys are still in the Norfolk pines.

Part way through the call things shift
from the pushing of some kind of program
to an opening of doors
to all those who feel called
to be there.

Something switches,
inverts. The guiding spirit
of the work comes rushing 
in, through, between…
like a tide that pauses, 
breathes, 
and turns.