Oh to lay
Hand on bush

Red breast
Through thicket

Strong song
Penetrating

Gloom

When one disappears
The world keeps on spinning
The saints keep on sainting
And the sinners keep on sinning

When one disappears
Some may stop to wonder
But only a chosen few
Feel their souls torn asunder

When one disappears
Most await new dawn
But some live an endless night
Once their soulmate's gone

Are the Australian tied to the Kangaroo the great outback and the boomerang?
Are the African tied to the tassels of the Baobab tree the pyramid and the Nile crocodile?
Are the European tied to the red Carnation?
Are the Americas tied to the wings of the Eagle?
Are the Asians tied to the rice paddy the great wall the silk route and the Ganges?
Are the Antarctican tied to the polar bear?
Are the Oceanic tied to the deep blue sea?
Is humanity tied to this beautiful planet?

As I sit here
I possess a seat
At a table
Many would
Understandably
Be scared of.

To spend time
With thyself
Unphased by
Tenors of busy engines
Against humming
Birdsongs in a grove.

From here
Space feels infinite
Not to the touch
But to the sight
That wanders from green
To blue hues in daylight.

Happily disconnected
Yet connected to
The very essence of
My existence
Which troubles
The modern mind.

I want to write my own story
But sadly I only hold a poet's pen
Not the pen of destiny