Gift Of Life Poem by Rod Morris

Learned secrets of my land,
of cool snowflake and warm white sand.
Of mighty trees that stand so tall,
whispering grass, of moreporks call.
I know the song of babbling brook;
of quietness in a fern filled nook.
Of windswept coast and crashing sea,
a bush bound lake’s serenity.
The heartbeat of a mountain high,
as it hurled abuse at a clear blue sky.
Inhaled scent from fields of flowers,
blossoms hang from laden boughers.
Gazed at night skies stars and moon,
crickets call and a frog’s boom tune.
Restless mud pools writhe with heat,
placid springs and rich black peat.
Ice-covered pools becoming undone,
once more caressed by morning sun.
Cobwebs hang from shivery grass,
silver trails where snails glide past.
Birdsong greets today’s new morning,
the land awakes, daybreak is dawning.
These cycles occur since time began,
before pollution, before uncaring man.
When once more man is no longer nigh,
he will not hear Earths last, goodbye.