(For Rob Harle , an artist and writer from NSW, Australia)
It’s my dream,
To be on the banks of the Northern Rivers
North of Lismore and west of Byron Bay.
For me, small rivers of the mind
Hold the truth,
Pointed sharp at the core of things.
Under the blue umbrella
And the land of red soil.
It invites my native own
To sail through the Sydney Harbour.
As connecting two continents
With an arrow of hope.
My friend’s large heart can swallow
The whole painted world
Of art, poems and rhymes.
In indigenous ink.
Like the reckless sweet flow of Beas in the upper Himalaya
He would gush unstoppable
In mundane deserts.
We are wet and connected
In the wire of harmony.