Postcard #18 Imogen Explores.
Here stands a home Where the streets are named of birds And the creeks rush by in every direction We look left and right but we run free Fearless into the towering spruce Ever searching into the darkness Stepping carefully through gullies and ferns Our hands greet curious reeds The velvet buds of the weeping willow Turning every stone With vivid imagination Unfolding the demands of the universe Wetting sand and soil with the dew of the lily We paint our faces with symbols of freedom Wildflowers Destined to bloom where they please Through broken concrete and stormy weather Filling every ridge with lush beauty Our roots stretch deep into the willing earth below
We’ll grow taller Strike flint for our fire And we’ll be home in time for dinner