Red Beauty

Mallee Dreaming

I lift the latch and step out into the weeds and undergrowth that is dripping and sodden with morning rain. I feel the water’s icy fingers soak into my socks and pool down into my shoes.

Ahead the horizon murmurs a soft conversation with the rising sun - And colour births its light to the undersides of a cirrus sky.

Behind me, the waning moon hovers in its gentle departure and I am caught between day and night – breathing in the air of dark and light.

The crisp chill of the air spurs me on and I hear a tender crooning. Gossamer soft peeping and chirruping, with the whir of soft wings, Paying homage to this sacred breath in time.

Resting my steps, I pause. "Ah ... Yes! Yes! … I know they’re here – I see them - Hushed and ghostly in the mist. I watch their sooty faces turn - eyes peering in cautious nonchalance.

Suspended in a fractal moment - they balance on taut tails, standing, Silhouetted against the shadow of the salt bush.

In reverence I bow my head and retreat gently - with respect. I forge a new path and move toward my meditation.

Lowering, I sit. The tentative, creeping rays of the sun Burst to life and flood the ground before me.

I smile and breathe in the red beauty of a Mallee Dawn.

from "Mallee Dreaming" by Joy N Perkins Author/Poet Puddletown Lane Publishing®