The Aboriginal Land

Two feet buried in the rocky red dirt 
Skin the colour of tree bark
Thin eucalyptus leaves flutter lightly in the breeze
The pattern of history painted on their skin
I watch them and join in
Huddling around a campfire listening to the Dreamtime stories
A dusty red boulder, sacred to the Aboriginal people and to us all
Beautiful brown trees blanketed with delicate green leaves
Old art carved into the flesh of a rock
Leaves dancing in the wind 
Hummingbirds making the silent turn into a tune of happiness
Stolen generations, far but close
Red, yellow and black shine the colours of the earth
Beliefs and traditions still here
Nature speaking the language of our earth
Patterns in the sand 
Green, spiky cacti growing in the dirt
Nature in harmony with its inhabitants 
Motherland
Aboriginal land
Not my land
But always a borrowed land