Lutruwita Dreaming

By the ground I sprout,

yet by the sky I frolic in the wind.

We shimmer where the sunlight clings,

cast shadows dancing golden thin.

From the tips of nearby understory,

vibrant, fractured, stitched in green,

a wallaby flicks through bracken seams,

still frolicking by the wind unseen.

A blade, a severance, near eradication.

Yet fungi bloom where beetles creep.

Fractured fragments survive in silence,

where golden hush and secrets frolic.

I walk unheard through moss and mist,

the forest breathing at my feet.

No path, just pulse and quiet signs,

frolicking under the light’s retreat.

We are the dreaming, root to sky,

a memory the stars still keep.

Alive in hush, in leaf, in breath

still frolicking by the wind’s deep sleep.