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Written by John Macan   
Saturday, 21 October 2006
Crouching beside a pure bush pool,




Guided through the water

By the song of angels

 

They have taken me

 

Sitting at the roaring river’s edge,

Carried weightless

Across winter floodwater

 

They have taken me

 

Entering the cathedral mountains,

Sleeping beneath the red rata

Drawn through ages past

 

They have taken me

 

In the wet grass looking skyward

Before the new moon,

Seeing beyond this heaven

 

They have taken me







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