Wednesday, May 20, 2015

My Country

When indigenous people Australia's first race
Talk of my country they are talking of place
Their district of Australia where they do feel belong
Their love for their home-place remains ever strong

With their way of thinking i can empathize
For as a migrant person i have come to realize
That my country to me is not anywhere near
At least not in sky kilometers seems obviously clear

My country it is where the rivers do meet
A half an hour walk west of the Town of Millstreet
A place that i left many Seasons ago
And time that rusts iron has since become my foe

Where old Clara mountain does ever look down
On the evergreen countryside by Millstreet Town
Though to many there nowadays mine might be a stranger's face
I too like most migrants retain a sense of place

Where i first grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And of Nature and life we do learn every day
We learn as we live as the wise one does say

In my country far north of here thousands of kilometers by sky
Today above Clara mountain the skylark does fly
A musical speck in the gray clouds he carols his song
The sense of place in me as is ever is strong.

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