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Untitled
a small and gentle breeze whisks across the bareness that is the
Australian scene... lifting particles of ancient sand, shifting
it to and fro as the endless color scheme changes momentarily...
a bird of prey drifts effortlessly upon the higher winds... a
small kangaroo rat scurries about, seeking relief from the
intense heat...
the air is charged with the ancients words, the time of the
dreaming of the native aboriginal people, and one can almost hear
their long gone corroberees, the thanks for the blessing bought
to them in abundance...
a single scrawny tree, dry and lacking any true colors, but the
color of the land come out through its very existence...
the sun baked mud pans, once in seven years teaming with bird
life and water animals, now barren and blowing away in the
wind... but holding hope and promise for another season of
bearing life to the world, in the wake of huge and regenerating
rains... still one can see the holes left from the animals as
they searched through the mud puddles for the all important life
giving fluid, that disappears alarmingly fast, and in it leaving
it stills the life of those too weak to escape the sucking power
of mud... only bleached and dried bones remain as testimony to
this...
to the left is a range, hazy, shimmering in the distance, miraged
against the searing reds and browns and golds of the outback...
to the right, an endless expanse of nothing but beauty, though so
harsh it makes ones heart feel that one may become lost within
its power...
the endless sun, glowing white with its intensity beat
remorselessly upon ones head, protected only by the tattered
remains of what once was a hat... and heats the water carried in
canvas to the point of being too hot to drink comfortably...
A mob of thin cattle move ahead, stirring the dust into great
clouds, that hang upon the horizon, announcing their march that
is endless, to find fodder and water, to just survive... heads
bowed, some swaying on thirst weakened legs, some will not make
it, dropping under the pressure of survival... the calves being
the most vulnerable... to small to have reserves, their mother
too undernourished to provide for them... most will become a
statistic on the side of the trail that they follow...
the rains are late, the rainbow serpent not feeling benevolent
this year... the buried frogs and turtles waiting for them
patiently, staying buried within mud holes for years until once
more they can come forward to see once more the beauty of their
environment...
the sun slowly descends in the west, bringing a rainbow of
majestic colors to the plains, bringing a cold as fierce as the
heat, again costing the weak their lives... and bringing the idea
of mortality to the strong...
a fire is lit, the camp set for the night... the cattle settled
as much as possible, the horses fed from dwindling feed stores...
the dogs gathering around to feed off the scraps of the humans
meal... and then to curl up to provide warmth to the men that
they call friends...
the dingoes howl mournfully... as if summoning the spirits of the
ancients... bringing the pack calling to the domestic dogs... who
watch the hills around them cautiously, waiting for a threat to
come closer...
The frogs croak, in defiance of the delayed rains, they know that
they are coming...
the men speak in muted tones, as if in fear of awakening the
spirits that were once alive and flesh upon these plains... as if
they know that their white mans place is far from these harsh
realms, as if they are indeed interlopers...
and the gentle wind still stirs, still shifting the sands caused
by its presence for millions of years, wearing down the
mountains, and breaking up the hopes and dreams of nature, to
scatter them across the plains for all eternity...
This is Australia... this is my home...
Em
untitled
The air grows thick with waiting
the atmosphere is strong
the answers hang like dagger
what the hell went wrong
the waiting grows unbearable
the people looking to each for hope
as they watch the strands uncurl
on the ever fraying rope
the world is still aspinning
upon its axis in the sky
but all around the people fall
and lifeless so they lie
the little children first to fall
the aged are the next to go
the fit are not so healthy
and ever more it does show
the food is all but gone now
the water rank and rotten
the ground yields nothing more
our sins rewards now begotten
too long we took for granted
the plenty that was given
and never once gave thought to
if our greed would be forgiven
no milk for our babies
no medicines to heal the ill
still though mankind takes no blame
for the evils that us surely kill
the rivers run with algae
the snow no longer falls
the air is hot and dusty
and we cry throughout it all
'why us, what did we do?'
the cry it rings out loud and clear
as mankind finds itself face to face
with death around and near
What did you do my precious?
let me give you a hint right now
did you stop just once to see
or even wonder how
this planet got to this state
or were you too busy being you
to wonder if this was the way
to do the things we do?
did you stop to wonder
if this greed that we all feel
would help us in the future
or just be another deal
of fate of cards of kismet
call it what you will
for this quirk that we forget
is now what will surely kill
our children and our loved ones
the fishes in the sea
and still all you worry of
is what will happen just to me
who cares what fate you meet
as you fight and take and spoil
in your ever endless quest
to have just about it all
to have a new car yearly
to have a condo by the hills
to have a view of beauty
while all the while you kill
the animals of the forest
the rainforests to grow a cow
the fishes of the seas
how do you like it now
that your TV does not work so good
and the food in your fridge will spoil
and all those pretty clothes and shoes
won't help out when you toil
the glittering of your necklace
pretty thing you had to have
is only worth a meal to them
or a smear of healing salve
to ease the pain of blisters
as you walk and walk and walk
in search of somewhere better
and look for someone who will talk
of good times coming
and an end to the carnage all around
as you watch as another loved one
falls upon the ground
listen to them carefully
be sure to hear their comfort words
for without all your attention
they surely won't be heard
when they tell you to place your faith
in their plans to change the world we know
to make it all get better
isn't that wonderful to know?
that in the midst of all the chaos
that some will still hold strong
to Gods and many icons
to help them get along
that they never see reality
and the cause of this problem now
is that they never listened
and cared nothing about how
they got to this point in time
nor take any of the blame
but look to something else
to make turn back all the same
to something that they can relate to
to understand to know
that they never see they had the choice
about the path they should go
they never once stopped their greed
or kept it in random check
they bought they use they wasted
buy more, so what the heck
but what happens now my precious
when there is nothing more to buy
do you turn on your tail and weep
and watch your loved ones die?
will you take the time to care
about who really runs this show
or will you simply be a number
and on the road so you shall go
ever seeking ever hoping
always wanting some else
to bring back to you the beauty
of stocked and filled up shelves?
will you ever make it
through the toughest time we've known
or will you just become a number
dust on the wind now blown?
Em
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