Wednesday, April 29, 2015

From whence I come…

In that place where sky rolls endless,
unravelling across shining vision,
and colours are lit with brilliance,
unknown beyond its distant shores,

as if the sun holds court across the
eucalypt-scattered landscape, teasing
at the shadows and throwing into
stark relief, the shape and form of

things held captive by surrounding,
crashing seas; a continent long
hidden and contained, where time
has rubbed through aeons, high

mountains, now made ripples on
horizons which sigh at the chin
of cerulean heavens, and ruffle
loosely across ancient, dusty

shoulders of becoming; holding
in place, the deep, red, beating
heart of the planet, as songs
dig deep, invisible, ancient lines.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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