Behind my Mind
I contemplate.
I see them pass like polished brass,
Bits and pieces pass my mind,
Some in different colours,
Scintillation turns me blind.
Way out back, behind the track,
Burnt bushes, blackened stumps,
New shoots as smooth as silk pop out,
And sharp green grass in clumps.
Behind my mind, I contemplate,
Which way did I blow in,
Floating on the northerly clouds,
Without from far within.
Is that a bird that I heard,
Or an echo through the hills,
A dizzy high me oh my,
A night of thrills and spills.
Here in the bush, no shove or push,
I touch the texture of the sun,
Warmth seeps through my fingertips,
Sun-soaked newmoments won.
Pass me the meal and do not steal
The pepper or the salt,
Lace the taste with spices,
I’m famished to a fault.
In awe I saw a brand new dawn,
My sustenance and food,
Stay with me for a while,
The bliss of solitude.
Positioning the pieces,
Life’s a jig that someone saw,
One by one under my thumb,
Right down to the core.
©
David Rudder
2023
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