Heyson Trail, South Australia


There is stillness, but many whispers

the chit chat of birds

the buzz of bees

the breath of appetized wind

A branch falls

A bird chuckles

dead quiet, but subtle movement

a pretty blue flower, sways gently in the woods

I observe, I feel

Sitting by a fallen tree

it’s bark so rough, it looks like rust

calmness is hypnotic

my spirit lay so composed

I could sleep, I could dream

I see a white spider with white speckles

and honeyeaters playing their game of chase

jumping, attentive, swift

I sit on the grass, little flowers of yellow, blue, white and lilac

invite my presence, in a grassy fernfilled gully

So beautiful, alive, spirit forest

old branches seem to reach out, it’s clawing stems,

as if they still see water

but it lay only amongst other trees

until once more it moves on



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