Somebody had to speak up,
All those twigs and lichen
Brazen in their silences,
Smirking at the passage of time
Refusing to take sides,
To say anything at all.
One day the gases of eternity
Decided they’d had enough
So compressed their mood
And blew up.
Then, in the debris of chaos
A lone branch of the heath family
Took it into its sap
To say something,
Opened wide its bark
And spoke
Presuming to speak for everybody.
Thus was history born.
Poem by Richard Druitt