Magnificence amid thickly grown yet precious branches of wisdoms spent thousands of years in creation.
Dwelling not on the leaves of slavery masked in hardness you never allowed the unknowing eyes of your next of kins to witness.
The movie theatre where you take your great grandbabies without them knowing when you were of their same age you weren’t allowed this same small yet irredescent pleasantry.
Your branches so fruitfully filled with goodness even amid misjustice placed purely on skin judgements.
Your kin wonder and I often wondered as I watched you from the park bench underneath your solemn shelter how you never appeared bitter and twisted nor gnarled.
How you remained of giving and yet fullfilled heart.
And how the days you hid from malicious malpracticing diplomats I see no tears trace your facial features.
I look at your magnificence in marvelled awe.
I know of the atrocities because of my dilligence of study but not a angry word you spoke.
I watch passerbys ignorance and it saddens me.
They dont see the splendour of your limbs of intoxicating beauty with leaves of bravery.
The kind that doesn’t wilter come winter when your leaves fall.
For your sap bleeds your decency and speaks to me in gentle breezed whispers of the truth
behind your ancestrial growth.
And how we became connected by our souls through my willingness to just listen.
And you do not dwell as you shelter me and soothe all the ill will within my own soul.
You preach to me of the taint of villification and of the necessity of patience.
Of the joy of acceptance and the freedoms your soul reaps from being not colour-blind but colour BLINDED.
Letting colours bind us!!
And tho I do see your skin of ashen blackness
I see the raindow serpent of your soul casting rainbows and enlightenments;
Wonderment and gracefulness.
You were there when your family were bled like the sacred deserts earth.
Returned to their ochre coloured sands in seeping blood that bled the same colour as those that murdered them.
Yet treated with indecencies absurd to humane minds in todays times.
Your limbs of elder yoke so glorious I hear hymns of sacred Corroboree’s as I rest beneath them.
I feel sheltered by royalty MY ELDER QUEEN and I vision leaves of better tomorrows glistening.
My senses linger amid the sweetness of lemon myrtle and lilly-pillies.
I taste water yet to be tainted of toxins unbefitting your digestion wet my tongue.
From rivers long ago bountiful and flowing with the laughter of children by their mothers sides batheing in the purity.
Unrelinqueshed .. Untestified.. before the test of time changed and the streams were pure and full no more.
Thousands of years of growth since you first were a seed of your soil and still you live..
If only they would listen..
To the leaves filled with your wisdoms..
In breeze or still.. I listen!
You are the native trees, the native grasses, the native berries, the native animals, the native oceans..
The native streams..
You are the natives dream and your sap runs within your native kin.
Your voice echoes in the reddened dust of the desert plains..
Amid the tidal change..
The breeze amongst gum leaves and the scent of eucalypts..
In the footprints on the sand and the bush prints of your land.
Through the mountains and plateaus and it screams off the clifftops in the Tasman..
On the breeze elder queen
And I listen..