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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press

Home at last

By: Wendy Blaxland

I open the car door

to let the dark night in

and hear the soft owl sound

of a more-pork‒whoo-hoo‒

like a breath blown low

through cupped hands.

And a huge wing gently arches in

to crook around me in the night,

enfolding the bruises of my day,

wrapping me in a warm shawl of sound

made of feathers whispering ‘sleep’.


Wendy Blaxland is an award-winning writer. She has published poetry in Australia, England, the United States and Norway and over 110 books, mainly for children, both fiction and non-fiction. She is also a playwright with over 25 plays produced.

Wendy lives surrounded by bush near Sydney. Much of her poetry is inspired by the environment in which she lives. But she is a citizen of the world and is passionate about how poetry can vibrate the heartstrings of its people.

"This poem was written during a difficult time. I was supporting someone dear to me in hospital.

I had just arrived home one night after another hospital visit, and sat in the car a moment to recover. As I opened the door the unseen owl which lives in the tall trees surrounding us called from the darkness. This owl has always felt like a guardian spirit. Suddenly I knew that I would be fine. As I am–and so is the person I care about."


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