I am fortunate to know a refuge for when my aching spirit tires
Of the city with its strain of horns and wheels and wires
Where an empty stillness and the cool flowing voice of the bush calls
Where I can see the horizan and watch the last rays of the sun dip into another world
I lie and listen to the chorus of water as it sings its way over shiny pebbles
Weaving its way through, ending its journey in the cool springs of this secret billabong
Come with me and enjoy this sanctuary; bathe in it's secrets, immerse in its calm
Drink in the essence of it's tranquil milieu, revealing to you your own healing balm

such a beautiful beginning....this poem reveals true feelings
great variety of words and interesting rhythm