And so the sun sets

And so the sun sets on another

Day

Another day I spend in growing

Myself

Another day spent in this burgeoning

World

Where the scarlett cockies claw on the eucalypt

Trees

And mutter the screeching mumble of

Refrain

To the tumbling of leaves and crickety crack of

Beaks

I too gnaw at the sap of the the Tree of

Life

And screech and flitter and call out to the

Yonder

For my wound is still raw, though not that

Expected

But deeper, and longer and more substantial 

Still

But that it heals ever faster as the skies turn their

Colours

And the breezes tremble the young saplings stretching

Upward

And the sun sets, its horizon

Full

Its magnificence bursting forth in

Abundance

Before the dark returns and settles itself

In

And we rest, and we dream and we make

Plans

For our days, our lives either

Squandered

Or lived, as we could, should we heed the loud

Call

And step forth with the swagger of the

Uncertainly

Certain, the confidence of the ever

Inquiring

The assurance of the

Unknowable

Mystery.