Of Parts Wrested and Wrestled

i live in the city but my heart is in the bush

this wide vast and brown land is so me

the story may be mild, and not exactly wild

but i love where i am and what i see

i get out there as often as is possible

bare minimum i try for every fourteen days

quick rat run out of this rat race city

in one of so many different ways

the things i have witnessed

the many places that i’ve been

the majesty the beauty

the things i’ve done, the sights i’ve seen

i’ve had the sun in my eyes and ice in my beard

i’ve had blisters from the walking i’ve done

i had a vision in my heart and steel in my step

as i followed this vagabond sun

i have at times woken, out there in the open

as another majestic dawn races an ever early sky

from lofty ledges and many mountains

close your eyes, open your arms and fly

i have seen the sun rise over a winter desert

so cold, so sharp harsh and still

i have seen the fog roll into vine laden valleys

both from within it and up on the hill

from far horizons i have tried to touch the stars

i’ve chased nights until they became the day

i have seen soft waves lap a mile long beach

i couldn’t possibly want it any other way

nearly every single day something new is presented

i feel organically and naturally blessed

i truly do love my sunburnt country

but i reckon you’d already guessed