At times I like to wander out where the Gods still make a stand.
Out in those bits they can still touch, in this once wide brown land.
Those remnants that they’ve left us where we can still be free.
‘Cos that’s the only place I’ve found where I can just be me.
It doesn’t matter where they are; You Yangs or great High Plains
those tiny bits of Wilderness are all that keeps me sane.
The magic of this Wonderland, of Gaia’s touch and feel
is Nature’s way to soothe our souls; keep us on an even keel.
The feel of wind and rustling leaves left trembling in its wake;
Where I can still see Nature’s plan; the equal give and take.
The wisdom of the forest is a song oft left unsung;
about the mighty Gum Tree that grows to die and feed its young,
the rocks that stand for eons lashed by storm and burning sun
to finally crumble into dust – to end as they begun.
For everything that’s out there lives long and dies each day;
A constant, firm reminder that we all go Nature’s way.
So it matters not if High Plains or beach sand meets your feet;
Just remember that each step you take is trod to Natures Beat.
And even hiding in the city, there’s no escape from fact;
just know that in the future, we’ll feel Gaia’s full impact.
For all that we have done to own, this place that we just loan
And understand the meaning of “We reap what we have sown.”
Hello cruel world, I’m here to join this circus.
- Follow a foolhardy florilegium on WordPress.com
Select a category
- 4,557 hits