Secrets Of Life Poem by Rod Morris

I've learnt the secrets of my land, of cool snowflake and warm white sand.
Of mighty trees that stand so tall, of 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, of a bush bound lake's serenity.

Felt the heartbeat of a mountain high, as it hurled abuse at a clear blue sky.
Inhaled the scent from fields of flowers, bright blossoms hang from laden boughers.

Gazed at night skies stars and moon, crickets call and frogs boom tune.
Crashing waves on pure white sand, sculpting castles on helpless land.
Restless mud pools writhe with heat, placid springs and rich black peat.
Ice-covered pools become undone, once more caressed by morning sun.

Cobwebs hang from shivery grass, silver trails where snails glide past.
Birdsong greets a 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.