Vanishing Point
Sometimes it happens
when you least expect it,
like the moment when the burden
of yourself finds rest beneath
the vast canopy of a River Red Gum
stretched across your path
and there is a sudden clarity
lensed through the cathedral like
quiet housed inside
its domed height.
Its enormous trunk
and gnarled limbs carry centuries
of history written in scars.
You carry your own concealed
under the weathered exterior
of human years. Something
finds communion here,
life linking in an almost shared
awareness, discovering ground
on which all things have purpose
and move through time
being bruised by suffering,
slowly perfecting the power
to see beyond the reaches
of the self, into that place
where all perspectives meet
and join, in the vanishing point
of the mind.
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