What one does at night under the light of a candle, with no power, no use for plastic cards of money and limited outside world communication on a Friday night… Well write something, what else..
Between the mountain and the sea
Living in the wildlands strange,
Where the rivers clash and roar,
Listening to the sunshine on one’s face,
Sensing time is sweet upon today for sure.
Living in the mountain rooftops,
Where the clouds they come to soar,
Listening to the snow as it slowly falls,
Sensing time has found the days of child like fun.
Living in the forests tall,
Where the creatures forage everyday,
Listening to the songs and calls as they slowly fade,
Sensing time in conversation brings each a smile or two.
Living in the hills abundant,
Where the streams they leap and play,
Listening to swift water glisten in the air,
Sensing time be flowing fast while slow at any chance.
Living by the shore storms,
Where the ocean shouts the names,
Listening to the waves as they vibrate upon the skin,
Sensing time runs deep, with life between the mountain and the sea.
Shrouds of rain
Oh misty mountain Berserkers,
You shroud yourself in rain,
With forests deep in green,
Slows the heavy rain to fall.
As you fill your gulley heads
Between the saddle and the ridge,
To send the fallen rain roaring down,
Over old black rocks and lying trees
Down towards Nerimbera land,
Where the mountain meets the river,
To backup in a cavalcade of rushing water,
Waiting flow, unto the Coral Sea upon the tide.