It is late dry season.
The creek bed an empty, rocky,
Corridor to remaining pools.
Climbing a slight crest,
An improbable rock,
Artfully shaped and poised,
Balanced atop a tall pillar,
Reveals the hand of nature.
Below rock ledges polished
By water and burnished by sun
Lies a deep pool of clear water.
Lilly pads float on long tendrils.
Purple lotus flowers open to the sun.
In the water, the Lilly pads,
Impossibly green, cling
To the surface, on which
Water skimmers dart to and fro,
Dragon fly hover, and lazy fish
Swim by, all unperturbed
by the floating human.
Across the pool's outlet, tall saplings
Of grevillea sway in the light breeze.
Parrots balance in the swaying tops,
Their orange shoulder colours
Match the grevillea flowers.
A lone fruit bat, separated
From the colony, climbs hand
Over hand, up and down branches,
To share the nectar.
In the afternoon shade
Of paper bark trees and
White barked eucalypts,
Sitting on the smooth rock,
Which gives comfort without
Being comfortable, the warmth
Of the rock against wet skin
Links us to others who have lain here
Sharing these sensations.