So what would it be like
To leave this place Iím in?
Pack a few things - leave the rest
Just go - with pack and sleeping bag
Warm clothes a pillow and a rug?
Goodbye to deadlines, stress, demands.
Goodbye to peopleís expectations.
Goodbye to classrooms, staffrooms,
Boardrooms, meetings, minutes, paper war -
Goodbye to all of these.
Welcome to sitting on a cliff top
Gazing out in to a valley where
A river winds and weaves it way.
Welcome to rough barked ancient trees,
Filtered light beneath the green canopy,
Leaf litter softening footfalls, rich smelling soil,
Fantails flitting around my feet and face.
Welcome to bush walks, snow walks,
Tussock walks, muddy trails,
Bridges across chasms, trails across scree,
Welcome to billie tea, woodsmoke,
Crackling fires, sitting in silence, on the river bank.
Welcome to wooden floors, wooden doors,
Wooden walls, platform beds, sleeping bags,
Candle light, lamp light, swift night,
Endless starry skies close enough to touch.
Here I sit dreaming - seeing visions
Of a house nestled in the bush
Small, unpretentious, books, paper,
Telephone. Internet connecting me
To all the world, and nothing when I choose.
To be alone - or sometimes with friends,
But never as alone again as I am now.
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