Words under Pressure #20

Our current trip has once again reacquainted me with the beauty and variety of this wonderful country I have chosen to come and live in. And since I’ve been on the road for days, I have no sewing to show you, and my camera is staying safely in its bag, out of the rain, so it’ll have to be words again.

Someone asked me the other day if it hadn’t been really hard to give up everything and everyone I had in England to emigrate to Australia. Yes, of course it was hard, I was dragging up my whole self by its roots, but it would have been much harder not to come here. I fit in here better than I ever did there, I feel more at home here than I ever did in England. I was drawn, as if by a magnet… It wasn’t ‘brave’, more inevitable!

Immigrant’s Song

Far will I travel over strange lands,
Touching none, seeing none.
Called, pulled by my heartstrings
To a new land, a new home.

Many millions will I pass,
Unguessed, unknown, unmet.
Gladly passed, gladly left,
For my new land, my new home.

Straight as arrow flight
Will I go, eyes ever ahead,
Passing marvels unmarked, undesired.
Towards my new land, my new home.

I have not left the ones I love.
They are all gathered up.
I carry them in my pocket as I walk
In my new land, my new home.

It took a while to adapt, but now you couldn’t pay me enough to get me back. My roots are down deeper here than they ever were there.