Sunday Refelections
Waking up at 7 in the morning
On a cold autumn Sunday
Is as crisp as the satisfying crunch
Of the dried, yellow leaves
The full weight of my week
Pressing them onto the coldness
Of Burwood's pavement
Still asleep.
The full weight of my week
Pressing them onto the coldness
Of Burwood's pavement
Still asleep.
Take the train to the City
I reckon, and ride the ferry
And be tossed at the Harbour
To Watsons Bay
Walk to The Lighthouse
Follow the short trail
Spend some time watching the raging waves
And thank the ocean
For bearing the brunt
Of a tumultuous life
Now finding the calm
In the suspended flight of birds.
I reckon, and ride the ferry
And be tossed at the Harbour
To Watsons Bay
Walk to The Lighthouse
Follow the short trail
Spend some time watching the raging waves
And thank the ocean
For bearing the brunt
Of a tumultuous life
Now finding the calm
In the suspended flight of birds.
Journey back to Circular Quay
This time staying indoors, upper deck
Where it is warm
And quiet
Only the boat's engine roars --
Noise is necessary
For staying afloat.
This time staying indoors, upper deck
Where it is warm
And quiet
Only the boat's engine roars --
Noise is necessary
For staying afloat.
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