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Ancient Mountains

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  • 2013.06.21
  • 4:32
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by John Williamson Where ancient mountains are whittled down Millions of years to a little mound Where giant feet are fossil found I see spinifex surfing on a dune, The rock is redder in the afternoon Tourists clicking madly soon Where spring will come with any rain A chance to flower and seed again Forever garden risin' plain The dangers of the wild remain And away up there where the wind is blown Never before felt so alone More aware of skin and bone I watch the parade of human folk Strips of rubber, cans of Coke Making dust and blowing smoke Where the awe-inspiring power of time Leave some fearful, some sublime White man finds his progress prime Black man feels no urge to climb Now I believe we all are one Features and creatures in the sun Breathing the air we all belong I have a dream I can't explain Wattle soldiers, making claim And paradise returns again

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