time and weather have cut through your splendor – tracks
are winding their way through like the many fingered hands of your Gums;
their capped, green swelling buds swaying in gentle rhythm…
like those fire cracker moments they explode into colour – a rainbow feast.
These graded trails offer treasures to the senses for the traveller –
a hidden water fall, a sudden vista or just the comforting crunch of foot (fall.)
There it is! lying on the bush trail – now a memory, nobbly fingers (pointing)
to the throbbing life that was – wise wizened, gnarled and ruddy the fallen
junctures hold a map to lost treasure just like the many paths now here.
sermonsfromthewasteland 