A birdsong come alive. Sweeping down to
the earth. Gathering yourself before landing. A
graceful landing after the flight.

Mountain ranges. Vast sweeping plains. Cities,
the activity centres. You are all of this and yet
something uniquely beyond.

You are vast, engulfing yourself.

Generous, giving of your vastness. A give and take
so easy, so free. Wings flapping and then closing in
close to your body before landing.

This land is no stranger to me as I walk through it again.
In my imagination too, I have walked through your wilderness,
explored your mountains, smelt the fresh scent of your islands
and bathed in your sun and wind and rain.

I know you with the ease of familiarity.

Your wings, still at times as you hover over your
vastness. I listen to your heart.

Your heart speaks to me of a million birdsongs.

I hear the sound of wings in your cities, in the
silent and sometimes stormy lakes that criss cross
your countryside.