In the morning light,
When the air is still,
Before the noises of the day
Intrude upon the mind,
A certain clarity
Becomes a possibility,
When in moments of repose,
One can turn inside
To find deeper moods,
Both beautiful and darker spaces,
Places of uncertainty,
Tinged thus with anxiety,
As if, when walking in wild hills,
One comes across a vantage point,
A jutting outcrop of rock,
Overhanging a plunging valley,
And standing there alone,
One's consciousness sinks into the abyss,
Its tumbled sea of wooded slopes,
Above which rise rugged pinnacles
Wreathed round with mountain mist.
Across a vault so vast,
A tiny bird,
Caught in a ray of sunshine,
Seems to hang and float,
As might a dust-mote,
In a beam of tinted light,
Streaming down
Into the transept of a great cathedral,
Illuminating the space
With divine renown,
A sacred sense of depth,
With perspective so beyond
All human understanding,
As to still one's breath
And overwhelm the viewer
With a sense sublime,
So near the dread of death.
Pondering thus,
In awe,
I follow with my eyes
The rugged forest,
Sweeping steeply down
Towards the valley-floor,
Those silent soundings
Somewhere out of sight,
Which seem to promise
More than I can see,
Invoking a sense of mystery
Of something hidden
In the unseen depths below,
And a sense again,
Of something closer still,
An abiding presence
Of a far more intimate kind,
Calling me downward,
And, in my mind,
I begin to descend,
Over great granite boulders,
Hand-holds found on branches,
Offered here and there
In the tumble of mighty rocks
By trees clinging to crevices between,
Bending as they take my weight,
Shaking rustling leaves,
As I climb downward carefully,
Hand over hand,
With lack of sureness,
And fear of a poor foothold,
A slide of rock, a slip,
A fatal fall,
Into the abyss.
At last when I have scrambled down
The wild and rough escarpment,
I stop to catch my breath,
Beneath the mass of rock,
The titanic building blocks
Of this timeless landscape,
I find the ancient ground gives way
To a less demanding gradient,
And my breathing comes more easily
Descending now less dangerously,
My shoulders brushed
By lighter leafy foliage,
As I step down through dense bush,
Pushing back branches from my face,
Sliding over fallen trees,
And make my way down,
Through thigh-high bracken,
Between the trunks of mighty
Mountain eucalypts,
Those giants marching silently
Down to the valley floor.
Down here the air is cooler,
And I hear a distant murmur,
Not of mountain breezes
Sighing in the tops of trees,
But rather the enticing sound
Of running water,
Coming from an unseen place,
Nearby, waiting to be found
In this shadowed peaceful realm,
Where sunlight touches softly,
Catching the frond of a fern,
Shining on smooth white boughs,
And I go further down and in,
Until the watery bell-clear sound
Seems all around,
And reflected light catches my eye,
Between the trees and foliage,
Until eventually
I step out into a clearing
An open space
Where there is a great flat rock,
Around which a shallow creek flows
Over a bed of white stones,
And two great straight trees
Stand like sentinels,
Guardians of this lovely glade,
Water gurgling around and below
Their gnarled roots built like buttresses.
Here I stand in breathless silence,
Marvelling at the light
Filtering down
Through the towering trees
And floating fronds of tree-ferns
High above me,
Its soft and golden luminosity
Bringing a sense of mystery,
And the grandeur of stillness
To this peaceful place,
Where water trickles soothingly.
And as the beauty of this vale
Fills my mind with thoughts
Of Nature's splendour,
I sense the presence
Of that one,
I far too easily forget,
Who abides here in this valley,
Who appears
Unbidden in my dreams,
And whose steady gaze
Has always brought me back
To deep reflection,
For she is my mirror,
Soul, and centre of my being,
And I sense her standing
Close beside me
By the running stream,
Arms outstretched to welcome me
To our place of blissful unity,
Where I will never be alone,
For she is ever-present here,
Always awaiting my descent,
My return to what is home,
So felt with awe and gratitude,
Our lovely Vale of Solitude.
