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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1838901
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.
© Copyright 2012 Mikey Mike (mikey1971 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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