I BEG YOUNG PEOPLE TO TRAVEL-IT CHANGED ME

MY COUNTRY

The love of field and coppice

Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies 
I know, but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise. 

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror 
The wide brown land for me! 

The stark white ring-barked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon,
Green tangle of the brushes
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops,
And ferns the warm dark soil. 

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When, sick at heart, around us
We see the cattle die
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady soaking rain. 

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine
She pays us back threefold. 
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze ... 

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land 
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand
though Earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea MacKellar

PALE BLUE DOT

I saw this on a friends Facebook status (thanks Alan) and for some reason it hit a chord with me and wanted to share the verse......

But for us, it's different.

Look again at that dot.

That's here.

That's home.

That's us.

On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

It is up to us.

It's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

Carl Sagan

Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space

PP. 8–9

Spending Christmas with Jesus

My mum was buried 2 weeks before Christmas, 06 December 2008 and this poem was used at her funeral.  

It's that time of year when people think about loved ones and family and this is to honor my mum and that she hasn't been forgotten.

Spending Christmas with Jesus

I see the countless Christmas trees

Around the world below,

With tiny lights like heaven's stars

Reflecting round the globe.

The sight is so spectacular

Please wipe away that tear

For I'm spending Christmas

With Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs

That people hold so dear

But earthly music can't compare

With the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you

The joy their voices bring

For it's beyond description

To hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me,

Trust God and have no fear

For I'm spending Christmas

With Jesus Christ this year.

I can't tell you of the splendor

Or the peace here in this place.

Can you imagine Christmas

With our Savior, face to face?

May God uplift your spirit

As I tell Him of your love

Then pray for one another

As you lift your eyes above.

So let your hearts be joyful

And let your spirits sing

For I'm spending Christmas in Heaven

And I'm walking with the king!