The river is free
to meander as it pleases
sinking low in the sandy bed
carving out the best path
under bridges and through town
The landscape is all green
and creamed honey on burnt toast
water mirrors changing bark colours
the ever present red dust
settling, giving up, stopped
Sun struggling through the mist
spiders find new homes
bees follow queens
snails, moss and mushrooms
Cicada nymphs rising
all the dormant spors
coming alive
I feel it in my pores
this aliveness and freedom
too much for anything other than stillness
soaking it in, I walk quietly
until my heart is recoloured
rifts repairing, a moment to align
to this country's palette 🎨
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