The Australian bush holds its mysteries close. How can we follow its interconnections, find the disconnections, name things that are barely hints. The old world sent truths that became lies and we cannot blame the poets.
It is not only poets who are interested in puzzles. All of us live in basic mystery.
Science and religion jostle one another in the shadows,
throwing in each other’s eyes the dust of beauty, possibilities,
distant myths, and approximate truth.