Walk with me, share
my path awhile,
Let time our servant be.
Let's steal a fragment rich and deep,
A span of time from urgent needs,
And see the beauty of our trees,
They wait, and hear us passing.
The colours pulse and
shine and dance,
Bright spectrums merge and blend,
Look carefully, a fine veined leaf,
It's filagree entwined beneath
A delicate close woven sheath,
Speaks softly of creation.
A flash of blue, a blur
of wings,
Bright shaft of soundless beauty,
We watch it dip and sway and glide,
While trembling leaves bow side by side,
And scurrying insects rush and hide,
We pause in silent wonder.
A tiny flower, bright
golden yellow,
Bravely nods a greeting,
We stoop and gently touch it's bloom,
And softly whisper, " we'll make room,
Just spread your joy in this world's gloom,
We need your strength and beauty."
Our feet scrunch softly
on patterned sand,
Look here, down here behind the stump,
A fragile nest just freshly blown,
From sheltering branches thickly grown,
Take care wee birds, where ere you've flown,
God speed you on you journey.
A fence ahead, we reach
it stop,
And view what some call progress,
Bare, flat, dull brown, impoverished earth,
No blade, no tree, no life, no birth,
Just ridging tracks, a barren dearth,
Revealing crude destruction.
What value now, the
cool green shade
And muted blends of colour?
What value now, the tiny nest
Tucked snug and undiscovered?
We need to hear currawong's fling joy to the world,
We need to bring alive, our sense of wonder.
Posted with permission:
Author: By Colleen ©