Ochre shapes on the rock face. Ancient rites where petroglyphs sited
I see footsteps traced. Sprayed in paint, bearing the old ways.
Creation recorded wisdoms carved.
First peoples’ spiritual guide. Stories told across the skies.
Rite. Ceremony. Wisdom. Initiate.
Scratched fossils cracked wide open. I find I’m digging for my survival. Trying to find where they connect to. Look at the sky. Flat feet grind to place my weight so evenly in this space.
I’m struggling to retain the ground I walk on, but the sand is forgiving and molds to me.
Eucalypt sweats from the leaves and I’m drunk on the unbearable heat. I meditate in the stench and absorb it. The sun’s rays break in the dry riverbed and my own path crosses the caterpillar dreaming. Wisdoms recorded in oral tradition.
Rite. Ceremony. Wisdom. Initiate.
And this is all bigger than me. And this is all bigger than me.
Now. It’s not ok to hear the roar of the engine
It is not ok to see a digger with intention
It is not ok to bulldoze with aggression
Dig pits out pockets where ancient worlds hide in
It’s not ok to destroy the placement and origin
It’s not ok to crush the petroglyphs of wisdom
It’s not ok to dominate with ignorance.
Fracking fractures the earth’s crust Forcing out our heart’s gas
Backburning methods lost all control
Old growth forest has lost its soul
like drilling rigs in sensitive coral
like tearing down Gondwanaland’s hold
like endangering our marsupials
like taking babies from its mammas fold
like creating a law for genocide
like following a leader who makes you lie
like following a leader who makes you lie
like following a leader who makes you lie
My country is burning
Fossil fuels light up the horizon
Wasted water rusts the pipelines
Corrupted drinks the rum and pass it round to dull us
While the rum is passed down in the family
That family drinks into stupidity
The captivated enjoy humility
Ashes beyond ashes, dust burnt to dust. My country is burning.
The carbon’s expanding.
No rite. No ceremony. No wisdom. Dissipate. Lost at the coal face.
© Gnattie
I see footsteps traced. Sprayed in paint, bearing the old ways.
Creation recorded wisdoms carved.
First peoples’ spiritual guide. Stories told across the skies.
Scratched fossils cracked wide open. I find I’m digging for my survival. Trying to find where they connect to. Look at the sky. Flat feet grind to place my weight so evenly in this space.
I’m struggling to retain the ground I walk on, but the sand is forgiving and molds to me.
Eucalypt sweats from the leaves and I’m drunk on the unbearable heat. I meditate in the stench and absorb it. The sun’s rays break in the dry riverbed and my own path crosses the caterpillar dreaming. Wisdoms recorded in oral tradition.
Rite. Ceremony. Wisdom. Initiate.
And this is all bigger than me. And this is all bigger than me.
Now. It’s not ok to hear the roar of the engine
It is not ok to see a digger with intention
It is not ok to bulldoze with aggression
Dig pits out pockets where ancient worlds hide in
It’s not ok to destroy the placement and origin
It’s not ok to crush the petroglyphs of wisdom
It’s not ok to dominate with ignorance.
Fracking fractures the earth’s crust Forcing out our heart’s gas
Backburning methods lost all control
Old growth forest has lost its soul
like drilling rigs in sensitive coral
 |
| Image theguardian.com |
like endangering our marsupials
like taking babies from its mammas fold
like creating a law for genocide
like following a leader who makes you lie
like following a leader who makes you lie
like following a leader who makes you lie
My country is burning
Fossil fuels light up the horizon
Wasted water rusts the pipelines
Corrupted drinks the rum and pass it round to dull us
While the rum is passed down in the family
That family drinks into stupidity
The captivated enjoy humility
Ashes beyond ashes, dust burnt to dust. My country is burning.
The carbon’s expanding.
No rite. No ceremony. No wisdom. Dissipate. Lost at the coal face.