THE SPIRITS OF THE OUTBACK

© Veronica Weal Mount Isa, Queensland

 

When those aircraft started falling in an outrage so appalling

That the world was changed forever on a clear September day,

Did you shed some tears of pity for the pain of New York City?

Did you grieve for senseless slaughter in a country far away?

 

Do you feel a fear of flying, and of shattered aircraft lying

In the piles of smoking rubble in some city overseas?

Have the sites of foreign action lost a lot of their attraction?

Do you think of coming holidays with feelings of unease?

 

At a time of narrowed choices, clear your mind and hear the voices

Of the Spirits of the Outback, as they praise their ancient land.

Hear their whispered words come stealing as they softly start appealing

For a nation to appreciate the wonders close at hand.

 

Youre an Aussie, so you reckon.  Follow where the Spirits beckon!

Go and see the wide horizons as the dusty tracks unwind!

Take your car and dare to travel over western dust and gravel.

Feel the sense of isolation when the citys far behind!

 

See the kangaroos go bounding.  Hear the thump of tails resounding!

See the wily snakes and lizards in their careful camouflage.

See the bright green budgies winging, with a thousand of them singing!

See a string of camels striding through a distant blue mirage.

 

Go and see the sunset glowing where the coolabahs are growing

Near Kynuna, where the legends of the past can touch your soul.

See, in wild imagination, as the icon of a nation

Meets his fate in muddy waters at the Combo waterhole!

 

See the headstones sadly angle, in the weeds and grass entangled,

Where the dead men lie forever now their lonely lives are spent,

Sense their selfless sacrifices as they paid the losers prices

In the game of dice with danger, in a stark environment.

 

Go and watch as riders battle with the speedy bush-bred cattle.

Hear the stockwhips crack and rattle when the muster has begun!

Stand and feel an eerie shiver as the ghosts of Snowy River

Gallop silent through the snow gums on an alpine mountain run!

 

See the purple storm clouds banking when the mill has ceased its clanking

And the lives of stock depend upon the rain about to fall!

Go and see the grasses growing where the rivers have been flowing,

And the way the wildflowers carpet all the country, wall to wall!

 

See the distant mountains shimmer in the hazy mid-day simmer.

See the wide blue vaulted heavens where the wedge-tailed eagles fly.

Go and see the rivers shining where the ghost gums are entwining.

See a windmill silhouetted up against a sunset sky.

 

When the blackened billys boiling and the campfire smoke is coiling,

See the sparks that dance like fireflies as they float into the night!

Go to sleep, when day has ended, neath the Southern Cross, suspended

Like a precious jewel above you, with its pure and lustrous light!

 

View the painting, dotted, mystic, of an ancient race, artistic

And simplistic in their spirit.  Go and see and understand

Why they love their Keeping Places in these endless open spaces.

Go and sense their total bonding with their Rainbow Serpent land!

 

Go and see the Wests aorta source of life, artesian water!

See the lilies splashing colour on the creeks of Kakadu!

Heed the Spirits!  Go and do it, or forever you will rue it!

Flash resorts and frantic cities are the same the whole world through.

 

Do not sit at home stagnating when Australia is waiting!

Go and see the opal colours of the country further out!

Meet the people unassuming!  See the golden wattle blooming!

Go and see the vision splendid that The Banjo wrote about!

 

Leave your comfort zone behind you!  Let the inland core remind you

Of the courage of our pioneers, who played a vital part

In the gradual formation of our image as a nation.

Let the Spirits of the Outback live forever in your heart!