Shadows the familiar acacia tree,
And the comfort of surroundings,
Feels new, and fresh, and free.
Dusted by the reddened ground,
Reminds of travel through terrain,
Captured by a landscape,
That will see you soon again.
The ache which follows the lion's roar,
Or the lonely wanderer's song.
When the never ending sky above beckons,
Know you have been away too long.
Ancient ghosts color landscapes,
The primitive soul can see.
And safely brings you back to lands,
Where your spirit yearns to be.