Grandmother cries.

Blood red crystals, arils,

small and young,

life opened; alone on the ground.

Tears flow from the earth, Kabul.

Howling sacred words, forgotten.

"Walu1," he cried, his story.

Grandmother gone.

Two trees, sisters in time and knowledge,

different languages, stories interwoven.

"Wanaruah," Grandmother tree cries and howls 




1"Sun Woman" ~ Yolŋu Matha language