On a Sunday afternoon,
when temperatures soared
in the Australian outback
he sat, silently on a termite hill
trusting the high voltage lines
to shield and hide him from God.
Though sitting, God had seen
the footprints he had left behind.
It must have been his very soul
that tasted the hot sand.
As the Aborigines can tell you
no part of any soul
will ever vanish.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/outback-soul/
