Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Bush Path

Thin scar
Scratched upon the earth
A wound seared with sun’s rays
Hardened with the steady tread
Of silent feet

A path that points yet not directs
In sullen stillness lies
Unconcerned which way I go
Forward to somewhere
Or back beyond where I've been

The silence of this track
Teases and tantalizes
It seeps through me
Tempting me to sit awhile
Than to take a step

This stillness of the bush
The mystic rites of birth and death
Hidden from human sight
Ancient stories entwined
In natures sculptured land

A traveler through this still space
An intruder who steps
Through silence, of
Sculptured land to
Somewhere else



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