by EARL LIVINGS
Signs before you point out
paved and dirt tracks
to lookout moments,
encounters with grunting wombats,
dashing, courting fairy wrens,
flourishes of pink and blue flowers,
a placid, sculptured lake,
that well-placed park bench
for breath and contemplation
before heading home,
stress lines faded a little.
How much better to trek
across jagged ground, through
matted and snagging grass,
to push through branches
spiralling between trees,
to peer and listen, not seeking
home, nor avoiding, hoping
for this unbidden moment
that opens all moments
to the deep song of a sun
threading leaf and skin
with gold and shadow.