At the tree, he sat, spoke wise
through the wind, hear the message, the tree is signpost.
Be quiet.
Be still.
Hear the message:
Wita Witalana … Wita Witalana
(Looking out)
they come, they come
wita witalana –
Steel Wom-boo.
.
Axe sounds rang across my Mother’s belly . . .
Watchtower’s fields of love lay slain.
no more boomerang from trees
no more spears
no more Mother’s signpost.
You left axe marks on my Mother, Wom-boo,
– through sacred totem – you cut my heart.
Rainbow Serpent’s tears cannot make the slain grow again.
In towns
it rains, cold
so cold I ache …
because I’m alone,
away from you –
no more boomerang from trees-
no more spears . . .
© Paul Collis, 2021
