Be sparse like the saltbush plains
of the outback, short on adjectives,
mostly verb and noun. Let the sun
scorch shadows into the sand,
hollow out some shade where a little
life can hide from the heat.
Celebrate the light, its clear passage
through the air, hard as the sharpened
edge of a steel blade. See how it cracks
the land, opens wounds where
the inland snake hides and brews
its venom in perfect silence.
At night feel a cold descend
from a sky emblazoned with stars
set in the icy distances of space.
Endure a solitude that drains the soul
as it leaks out towards horizons
of absolute nothingness,
here,
come face to face with yourself.
Note.
The Australian outback is largely
a dry and unpopulated area covering
around 70% of the total land mass
of the country.
By comparison, this arid region
equates to a little over 50%
of the area of the United States,
( excluding Alaska ).
Strewn across a wide plain,
sheep bones dazzle
in the bright sun.
On the horizon,
phantoms coalesce then melt
away into watery lies.
The only sound
is the dry, papery whispers
of saltbush rasped
by a hot wind.
The stone walls of a derelict
farmhouse make a last stand
against the encroaching desert.
A big sky has claimed its roof.
Out of the shadows
of a paralysed windmill,
a shiny black beetle
leaves little footprints
as it wanders across the face
of this abandoned world.
I could be strolling on a river bank,
or sitting in a managed park.
I could be walking on a saltbush plain,
or where soil is parched and stark.
I could be climbing Perry sand hills;
be shaded by a Wilga tree.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
I could be gazing at a rainbow arc,
or clouds billowing to rain.
I could witness lightning and thunder;
stroll on a sun drenched plain.
I could see a stumpy tail upon the tar;
a mob of grazing kangaroo.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
We talk about adventure that we had -
it seems I’m talking to nobody.
Distant mountains, a purple haze,
Kangaroo stands up to gaze,
Station horses and sheep graze,
On an unforgiving plain.
Red gums line a bone-dry creek,
Pink galahs swirl and shriek,
Bones are bleaching from the weak,
On harsh and dry terrain.
Soaring high in the world you own,
With not a kingdom’s soul unknown,
On the red soil plain beneath a clear blue sky,
So much seen in an Eagles eye.
Every movement, every sound,
On the saltbush covered ground,
Thinking safe and can’t be found,
Cannot slip by.
A dingo on the prowl… is in an Eagles eye,
A Whirly-whirly dance… is in an Eagles eye,
Seek the frail so the strong survive,
Keeping the outback so alive…
From an Eagles eye.
Soaring high in the world you own,
With not a kingdom’s soul unknown,
On the red soil plain beneath a clear blue sky,
So much to see in an Eagles eye.
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