Musings on life

I long to hear that mournful cry; the wild bush Dingoes call.
I long to feel the soft Earth’s touch beneath each sure foot fall.
That warbling sound that stokes the soul, a magpies morning call.
The soundless noise of Winter, when the snows begin to fall.
To walk in contemplation under a Mountain Ash stand high.
To walk a path ‘cross this wide brown land under a clear blue sky,
in search of somewhere I can sit and let my spirit stand
and fly into the ethers to bind firmly me to the land.
If I lift my heart up to the clouds and gaze down on the Earth
perhaps I can begin to see the reason for my birth.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
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