Streets full of people with trinkets to share
Offering them up for the folks in despair
Yandi and crystals and oils for growth
Of spirit and body and mind as we go
Emphasis placed on the body and mind,
As the heart is often somewhere behind
Strange
Tiny little bones of the innocent child
Looking up at me with the saddest of eyes
Is her innocence intact or has it been stained
Has the creature that feeds her taken it away
Strange, so sad it’s strange
I recognise my health
Things that I have been dealt
Places that I have roamed
Feelings I’ve had, things that I know
Home
Running through the bush in awe of the trees
Moving in time with my capable speed
Skippy ants claw at the edge of the bowl
Of a shell of an egg of a bird long since gone
Maybe it rose up to spread it’s new wings,
Or maybe it nourished a stronger sibling
Strange
Places we roam and people we meet
Some connections are strong, and some a little weak
One or two or three or four, or maybe five or six or more,
Strong as the roots of a big old gum tree
And we’ll carry them through to the next life we see
Strange, so beautifully strange