“There are some places closer in that yield a little still,
But they are not of any use at all to me” said Bill,
“There’s a living there for those, who like to stop and dig,
But further out there’s always a chance of something big.
When fired with hope we see him go, along that lonely track,
We, in our wisdom, say that Bill has been ‘too long outback’
And there is laughter in our eyes – but there is pity too,
When we see old Bill heading for the distant hills of blue.
For we too tread the lonely road, that leads through empty years,
We too, look forward to the day when our great chance appears,
We too, dream of the time when life it’s promise will fulfill,
And well we know the hope that goes along the track with Bill.
For peace of mind and sweet content are not for such as we,
We too, like Bill, are seeking that which we may never see;
And day by day in rain and shine we tread with aching feet
The road that ever leads beyond where sky and hilltops meet.
Through Mulga scrub, o’er saltbush plains where willie-willie’s dance,
Old Bill is going out to where he reckons there’s a chance.
He gives a parting wave to us, as he turns around the bend –
May we too, have the faith of Bill to seek it to the end.
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Moya Sharp
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