Sitting on the banks of the Murray River, New South Wales, Australia. |
I see The Murray before me, a beautiful place As the warm northern breeze caresses my face As the gentle dawning sunlight reaches the tops of the trees I become aware of a feeling of ease. I see an echo of native men drift by in their canoe Fashioned from red gum and tied with bamboo Taking from the River all that they need All the lessons from their Ancestors they still do heed. I see their faces of peace, though weathered and rough Thankful to the spirits in the celestial skies above Grateful for their union with the land, sea and air Never is there a need for repair. I see a shadow of clothed men row by in awkward boats Built from wood, steel bolts and rope Mapping the River, not seeing 'round the next bend Their hungry ways heralding in the end. I see their eager faces, though savaged by the sun Thankful to their compasses, knowing why they'd come: To explore this new world, to see what it has to offer All the land, sea and air is soon to suffer. I look down and see my Self on the banks - in awe As the pure white wings of cockies give roar With the shifting sunlight they now set flight And everything seems to be just right. I see my face, once tired and drawn Thankful to the beauty of this new dawn Grateful for being here sitting on the River Remember that I know it will flow on forever. |