Of fairy tale lands
I thought only possible
In the imaginations of
Novelists and filmmakers
Until I went exploring
Until I went exploring
I’ve wondered, too
Is this the nature of travel
Or the nature of me
And as it lies there
Like a cat on blanket
Napping in the afternoon sun
Coming through the window
Mother Nature soothes
Its hard, rigid body
With a massage of
Wind, rain and
Savage heat
Like the ghost gums
In the Red Centre
I would come to know
Centuries later
I held you
While you grew cold
Your eyes
Already clouding
My body emptied
Of presence
Hollowed
By your absence
We roll on through
With singing tires
On bitumen
Both dreaming of
This singing land
Now I walk with a gentle deference
Listen, when I might have spoken
Forgive, when I might have challenged
Let go, when I might have held on
After a while
All anyone sees of me
Is the walls
After a while
All that is left of me
Is the walls
I only have a glimpse
Of the way ahead
Through difficult terrain
Many sections of the path
Remain obscured
And the final destination
Still lies beyond
The visible horizon
I am reminded
Earth is a very small place
And I
I am a very small man