Canoeing down the river

Gentle current moves me.

Ebbing, flowing water

And sunlight, all surrounding.

And as I go 

I’m leaving places,

Tearfully farewelling faces,

But the still, small voice,

He gently whispers,

“It’s time to let go”. 

See the galahs, the galahs, 

sitting on the powerlines! 

See how they laugh, they laugh, 

like mums on the sidelines