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For Kate

Meditation on Mountain Top, by
your cabin at sunset. Before me:
sprawling green in the equipoise
of March equinox, and the gangly
joey hanging out of pouch - a sort of  
Cirque du Soleil act in acrobatic
nibblings on jewelled grass. Where
flocks of sulphur-crested cockatoos are
frolicking high in trees, squawking, screeching,
claim their rights to food. They gather in
their troops. And the barren chooks have left
the shadowed orchard rows, robotically
return to roosts to remain safe, secure
from sly and hungry snakes.
Kookaburras too, are calling
long and loud, noisily telling
every living thing around
that this sound means
the land belongs to them.
Long-awaited moisture
with the sun's closing rays
bring life to earth in soft
sprinkling tears from above.
Now, I look for a rainbow over
yonder Cathedral Rock and the
Giant Bamboos groan, clatter,
shocking Peace Doves to the skies.