Aotearoa a womans journey

In the midst of this woman’s journey she is making each day count, she is visiting Aotearoa land of the long white cloud, commonly known as New Zealand. The woman sees a clearing and she can rest once more. She draws in the chill air and sighs, looking down at her past, but forever looking forward remembering her dream, that this visit is the start of her new beginning.

It was the weekend in the naked bush of west Auckland in Aotearoa. A place where sun, sea and lush green foliage would dance under the rays of coral blue lights, enchanting the mood of all who dear to dream and be alive in that moment. It was a weekend of the usual ‘walkabout’ for tourist and locals alike, although not quite in the aboriginal sense. The nomadic Aboriginal tribe in Australia would go on their ‘walkabout’ for as long as it takes. They would spend their time in the outback living in natural harmony with each other and the natural habitats of the desert. I believe the western world would have much to learn from this culture that has so much wisdom, faith and knowledge if only we care to listen.
The afternoon was fresh with the feel of the warm summer, fresh flora and fauna very typical of the ‘bush’ abundant with grace and beauty and the sea within view of the naked eye. The sun was exposed on my speckled back, another power kick to get one on the fitness stretch of my physical existence. I was walking solo, one big climb to the mountain of what seemed was my earthly existence among the local hills. Black sand beaches from the volcanic reminiscent of yesteryear held distant to entertain my peaceful existence, taking me away, but living in awe of the moment.
The day was quiet, still and then she presented herself to me, as the warm air brushed against my face it was a moment in time, a reflection and then she came.
As if she was answering my call, my soul reaching to my earthly mothers’ spirit and there she was, clothed in a jacket of black with orange speckled dress, exposing her summer frock. She stayed with me as butterflies do, I suppose and she was cycling, round and round and then towards me…up close, whispering her love in the echo of time and sunshine, her spirit was free at last.
So I followed her and continued on my hill climb, or down climb, what was it now? It mattered not but this living being so close, making her presence felt. I stand present in the moment awash with love and peace, I was in complete awe!
Then she left as gingerly as she came.
There I was standing motionless, the sun warm against my face, my arms outstretched on the wooden fence, as I leaned back stretching my torso and looking up to the world, cornflour blue sky, my spirit floating to the core of my soul and I reach out once more.

B Lawrey

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