The excursion is predictable, chosen
out of curiosity, memories, boredom.
State highway, narrowing country roads
leaving white lines for gravel, potholes,
cattle-stops like broken dreams,
anticipating heights, enticing trampers
into beautiful, dangerous bush clad hills.
The walk is predictable, leaving the car,
crossing the river, following a cautious
compliant bridge: Approaching a gentle
climb dressed in dapple of afternoon light
laying pools of shadow as if creation’s soul
means to reveal life, varied, troubled,
awaiting understanding of harmony here.
Is the sadness predictable? Carried
or found within this cavern-like murmur
of bush where birds once flourished?
The soul resonates to river, insects,
a bird or two – imagine more?
Scents of decay, incense-like, blessing
recovery, as if hallowing renewal.
© John Fairbrother
Image Boardwalk, Mt. Holdsworth, New Zealand, (Tracks.co.nz, Creative Commons by Share Alike)