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…
Imagine a moment; You’re in the darkness of the earths crust, A seed - knowing of no light, Blissfully ignorant of what shall be in store, When one breaks through the ground with all one’s might…
Thus enjoy this moment in the comforting darkness, Drawing in energy from the soil like we do breath, ‘Till it feels as if one could overflow or burst, Yet take another ‘breath’ despite little capacity left.
Then the tip of a shoot breaks through one’s shell into the warm dirt, Slowly making it’s way ~ venturing forth towards the cooler air, Whilst another is soon making its way towards earths core, Though which direction ’tis going… a seed may actually be unaware.
Yet still it continues growing it’s way through the ground, Root tips weaving their way deeper into the earth, All the while being fueled by the abundant energy of the surrounding soil, That strengthens the deeper its connection becomes to nearth…
Imagine in this moment; you’re standing in the outback, With it’s iconic red sandy dirt beneath your feet, ‘Tis a warm dry afternoon in the springtime, And thus the scent of flowers is upon a light breeze, tangy ‘n’ sweet…
As you listen to the breeze dance amongst the gum leaves, Its ocean like melody lulls you into its sway, Into a more seraphic style of perspective, Allowing the breeze to for now blow all your troubles away….
Thus you’ve new space to taste the tangy scents upon the breeze, Which vary depending on the surrounding flora, Filling ones lungs slowly with abundant replenishment, Creating space to adjust for what lies soon in store!
As the wind dies down and the leaves calm, One listens to the birdsong tune that surrounds, ‘Tis so seraphic a picturesque scene one experiences here, With blue grey trees sheltering wildlife, Tall dried grasses, colourful birds, And the red dirt that abounds…
And then from seemingly nowhere the sand moves over ‘n’ around your feet, Moving whisplike a bit for a moment enchanting your attention, ‘Fore it starts swirling around at your ankles, Triggering an experience that takes a bit of comprehension…
Slowly this spiral increases in it’s velocity, ‘Tis not uncomfortable but the sandy element gritty, Growing its speed and height to one’s knees, Picking up, blowing away, and adjusting all that it please…
Soon one discovers they’re hip deep in a whirlpool, Consisting mostly of dust that sparkles in sunlight and wind just a touch cool, As your legs take on a new sensation before now unknown, ‘Fore further into this whirlwind one ‘tis ‘bout to be thrown.
Wind now begins to whip veraciously around your abdomen, Inching in height with each slow breath you take, The sensations across ones back remind one of that, Which an experienced masseuse may create…
Reaching chest height it soon creates an interesting illusion, Of treading water on a secluded private beach, Sensations of being sucked down within the whirlwind, Are not so overly far from ones imaginations reach…
Though reality ’tis completely the opposite, One is standing securely upon ones feet, The earth below supporting ones every move, In a way no being has the ability to ever beat.
Yet the whirlwind continues above ones shoulder height, Around one’s throat ~ creating an interesting insight, Sensations at every point neglected are now trying to fight, To gain your attention for going unnoticed to fester be their plight…
One’s line of sight fast becomes a blur of orange/red sparkle, Enlightening one to contemplate this moment’s debacle, Weightlessness brings it’s own variation of calming element particle, Whilst the whirlwind invigorates your every hairs follicle…
The whirlwind now swirls around one’s entire being, To thick to see through to anything on the other side, Bringing thoughts of unknown consequences to one’s mind, ‘Fore one truly has no idea the outcome to result from this ride…
Until the wind drops as through it never began, All around one’s position seems as it was before, Was the whirlwind just an illusion of some creators divine plan? Or something greater one need further explore?
The Poetic Life 2.0 