Into the Meadow,I bear a branch from the She Oak as an offering,
I bear a picture of the black soldier ant’s path, up the tallest gum tree,
I bear a lake now half filled with the water of fresh rains
Upon a bed of baked clay where below the frogs sing.
The dawn dawns with fire that rises in the east, bringing with it a cool breeze that is scooping up the falling leaves that dance, and twist allowing themselves to gently fall upon a different spot and it reminds me of the the ever changing cycles of life. Beyond the wide, gurgling river rushes forth, and I in my boat not ..championing to be Mole, who sets forth upon a journey ho.