Tuesday, July 15, 2014


You walk along the edge of a forest
filled with the song of lyrebirds
and the frantic laughter of kookaburras;
you look at sunlight through canopies of green
and squint as it makes patterns on your face;
you saunter behind an old couple
walking arm in arm
and catch bits of their whispered conversation -
'And before you know it your lives are so entwined';
you're entranced as you shuffle past hordes of tourists
milling around a flock of parakeets and cockatoos,
feeding the trusting birds sunflower seeds
and squealing in delight when one of them perches on their shoulder;
you march deeper into the woods,
the silence now deafening,
the solitude overpowering.
The sun overhead descends into clouds
and the chatter of birds grows less frenetic, more cautious;
you slip on moss-covered logs obstructing steep downward slopes
and you climb again, further and further up until you've ascended all the thousand steps
of the Kokoda Walk;
you're now at the summit.
The city lies below,
an endless expanse -
the glimmering evening lights
promise a beautiful tomorrow.

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