Meeting My Place in the Sun

I keep feeling these incredible feelings of happiness. It is unbelievable. I just can’t stop smiling. I feel so happy and I find myself repeating it every day. I have to write a poem, but never can my poetry bring you this feeling, as it is pure joy. I don’t need anything but what I have, I feel I have everything. I love what I have. I sit in my four man tent, with table and chair, my rechargeable light and laptop. I am at home here in the middle of nowhere which in truth is now here. That is the journey I am on.


The sunflower of my life is open,
For I can receive the light,
And the dark,
As equally relevant to my growth.

Traveling Gondwanaland,
Gods land is Australia,
Australis means southern,
A great southern land,
Birthing my story,
Traversing the breadth of my horizons,
Takes my breath away.

Freedoms wind rushes through my window,
As my eyes open to new landscapes,
I am clearing the window pains,
To allow more light in,
So I can feel the air,
Touch the red soil,
Hold the ancient rocks,
See the emu’s run wild,
Marvel at the kangaroos,
Spot a stray camel or two,
Discover new birds, lizards and snakes,
For the rainbow serpent,
Is the winding road of life,
Freeing diversity to simply be,
As the path less traveled yet known,
Remembering we are all one,
Under this radiant sun.

This is not a holiday,
Every day is a holy day,
To which I give thanks,
I am finding the blessings are endless,
As my joy is a boundless mantra,
For I am homeless,
Yet homeward bound,
For my home is always in my heart,
And I am going home,
To live again,
As love.

Canberra is my origin,
Meaning meeting place,
For I am meeting with place-ment,
I am meant to be in this place,
I am finding belonging now-here,
In the yearning to live truth,
From the desire to give,
All that I have.

This country is 500 million years old and much more,
It is an ancient land of mysteries,
For I have walked in the footsteps of dinosaurs,
I have sung Waltzing Matilda at Winton,
I have searched for the elusive rainbow in opals,
Passed cattle stations the size of small countries,
Found black coal mining competing with coal seam gas,
The Great Artesian Basin flooding fountains to a silent spring,
Rodeo’s reviving the country buck,
As many drift to the cities for work,
Foreign workers run the bars and hotels,
For minimum wages,
As they await permanent visas,
To find their lucky country in the vistas
of their dreams.

Tennant Creek supplies out stations,
Remote communities are dry,
Bush fires are frequent,
As the flames are burning bushes,
Germinating new varieties,
As Alice Springs into life,
Tourists are out back looking in,
For the sacred and the spiritual is a dreaming,
That cannot be interpreted rationally,
As magic is in the ochre of dance,
A sweet romance,
Oral history is unwritten law,
For life is an experience to be shared,
A Corroboree is a meeting that celebrates life,
And this life is my dreaming,
Yet it is time to awaken,
To a new earth.

So my friends,
Enjoy every minute,
Every sorrow every joy,
Every high and every low,
For each is the flow of life,
Each is a gift given how you see,
For you are free to receive or give away,
To stay or leave,
For there is no risk,
Only the risk of not knowing,
Of not trying,
For it is never what you think,
Yet to feel takes you to the brink
Of a new paradigm,
Indeed a paradigm shift,
That rhymes without reason,
As you sing the song,
Bring the dreaming of your precious life
To fruition,
And this is the petition of freedom,
Calling us all home.

Mohandas Gandhi

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”