“The richest, the rarest of jewels
Were formed in the
Earliest of long-gone seas,
The most chaotic of places …”
The old miner-ghost whispers –
Echo from the desperate-hope past –
Tears so clear in the corners
Of his passion-determined voice.
“My pick was always sharp,
My bucket always empty, but
There are Gondwana‘s opals here,
I just need time to find them.
I would have you believe in me
Until I do.”
17/6/2013
Photo: www.walgett.org.au
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