Venturing along a dusty bush track,
Wind messing with your hair,
Dust flies where rubber or hoof meet ground,
There’s very few things to this compare.
Be it your choice of ute style, horse, or bike,
The blue grey bush land blurs on by,
As one becomes as one with their chosen ‘beast’,
Beneath an aquamarine shade of sky.
Winding tracks vs long dirt roads,
Dirt mound jumps ‘n’ obstacles to master,
Canine friends running loyally along beside,
May few be the unexpected hole or branch disaster.
For riding through the Aussie bush,
Can bring a clearing of one’s mind,
A freeing feeling that blows away debris,
That can constrict us to a negative energetic bind.
And even if the red dust tracks one rides,
Are ones you’ve ridden many a time before,
Each time is still filled with that same sense of adventure,
Of wonderment of what this time may have in store!
The Poetic Life 2.0 