If we wake and the water is calm,
We’ll travel without a care
Past the equator’s outstretched arm
Where the kingfishers hover in the air
Like brightly-colored angels intent
On guarding Eden’s dying flare.
We’ll walk where time has spent
An eternity crushing unchanging rocks
With angry waves hell-bent
On washing over this tranquil spot.
Then the forest, a million voices strong,
Will call us to walk where God walks,
In cool shade; where the cookal’s song
From the depths of the giant mahogany
Makes us believe we belong,
Here, where we have an uncanny
Feeling that we have seen creation born
And filled with endless harmony.
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