I’m not a tramper

I am just walking
This land
Responding to its call
That I hear
Each time I
Come home
From my motherland

I am climbing the hills
Descending the ridges
Following the valleys
Sometimes walking the roads

I am walking
River flats
River crossings
And through
River beds

I am walking
Scree slopes
Narrow ledges
On the side of
Precipitous slopes
Soft springy
Leaf covered bush paths

Negotiating
Swampy terrain
Boulders
Tree roots
Spikes of
Speargrass and
Matagouri
Tussock large and small
The path sometimes
Slippery from rain or
Loose stones

Feeling the sounds
Colours
Smells of
Everything the land
And all that lives here
Offers

Feeling the beauty
Available freely
Without me having to give
The right answers
Without me having to prove
Myself
To be worthy

Allowing tears
To flow
When it moves me
That I’m here
At all

I’m not a tramper
I am just
Walking
This land
Responding
To its call
And beauty