Imagine for a moment,
Your at a cozy quiet camp site,
Deep in the Aussie bushland,
Upon a damp, densely foggy morn…
Where the crisp morning air is what fills your lungs,
As you venture out of your cozy warm swag into the fog,
Taking a moment to revive the campfires coals,
'Fore finding a spot to sit upon a sturdy bark free log…
The fire soon enough starts warming the air in reach,
And provides the heat needed for your morning warm beverage of choice,
As you sip slowly birdsong breaks through the bush lands silence,
‘Tis nothing short of seraphic to hear their orchestral voice.
Then as the performance seems to reach near its peak,
A rouge ray of sunshine breaks through the fog,
Warming your soul from where it first touches,
As cell by cell it starts dissolving any remaining dull monologue.
Effervescent style this warmth from the sun’s first rays,
Ripples throughout your being then outward,
Slowly driving back the surrounding fog cover,
‘Till there’s no chance of it returning today ‘till night-covers bombard…
Thus in the soul healing warmth of the early morn’s sun,
One sits sipping seraphically one’s warm beverage,
Absorbing the bliss of one’s bushland surrounds,
Knowing for this day ‘tis now an abundance of bliss that has leverage…
The Poetic Life 2.0 