Treading these multi-hued lands
The history of this place unfolds.
It’s a song with a unique melody
Humming, low, sweet, melancholy
Whispered without words
Beneath clouds and trees.
Make my back your place to rest.
When you walk with me we both exist.
Abuse and ignore me, I become less than grey.
Come home again so I can flourish,
Vivid and diverse,
Walk with me not on me.
The inspiration for this poem is this post over here Reflecting on Rituals – An indigenous perspective on process as transformation. I’m indigenous but I can’t lay claim to any passed down knowledge from the ancestors. What occurs to me though, is that over time I’ve learned similar types of ideas as the author presents – from walking and listening to the earth of this wonderful country. It’s obvious to me – we regularly and repeatedly miss the point of what indigenous people and cultures, in fact, everyone that has arrived or will arrive on these shores, truly has to offer… hmm… except perhaps Tony Abbott and that crazy Sydney hostage bloke… ignorance and assertion is not only ugly, it frequently ends in violence.