{"id":18198,"date":"2019-01-20T08:00:31","date_gmt":"2019-01-20T08:00:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=18198"},"modified":"2019-01-04T17:07:53","modified_gmt":"2019-01-04T17:07:53","slug":"robert-s-daley","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/robert-s-daley\/","title":{"rendered":"Robert S.Daley"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>The Stony Heart<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>We had travelled thousands of kilometres across Australia in a Jeep Wrangler, through sagebrush and spinifex and red sand to get to the centre of this world. But it was not our world. I felt just as lost in Melbourne after my wife left me and the kids.<\/p>\n<p>As we drove around Uluru, its shadows hid and re-appeared as if playing a child\u2019s game. Other tourists took walking tours \u2013 my good friend Declan and I sat on the base. The rock pulsated with changing shades of crimson and pastel orange. I stared into the abyss and thought to myself, <em>somewhere out there, a kangaroo is bounding with joy.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>The Anangus believe that by touching the boulder they can experience Dreamtime. I wondered what my ancestral beings would tell me now? <em>Don\u2019t give up.<\/em> I said a quiet prayer to a quiet desert, placed my hand on the stony heart, and felt oven glove warmth.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Robert S.Daley<\/strong> is a mental health nursing student at the University of the West of England. He resides in Stroud, UK. He has previously lived in Hong Kong, Australia and Japan and travelled extensively.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The Stony Heart We had travelled thousands of kilometres across Australia in a Jeep Wrangler, through sagebrush and spinifex and red sand to get to the centre of this world. But it was not our world. I felt just as lost in Melbourne after my wife left me and the kids. As [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18198","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18198"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18199,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18198\/revisions\/18199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18198"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18198"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18198"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}