Bunyip Ballad

A froth of bubble-gum blossom,

Heady, redolent in the air -

These flaming carmine flowers

Are high summer's heir

______________________

A primordial landscape

wrought in the language of leaves

... my fireside in the smell of woodsmoke

on the twining breeze.

In this earthen undercroft

where wisemen walk untold,

and preachers preach their pretty sermons -

- whose words are lashed with gold.

A land contrived by fire,

consecrated in red sand

I seal it in summers ire,

and grasp it in my hand

______________________

The thrumming of cicada songs

Syncopated rhythms beating

with my palpitating heart

A whirling, honeyed orchestra

to pave my way to summer months.

I become a denizen of December,

a child of January days

Lost in -

- A froth of bubble-gum blossom,

Heady, redolent in the air -

These flaming carmine flowers

Are high summer's heir.

______________________

I feel that it is important to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land on which I wrote this poem, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation and pay my respects to the the elders past present and emerging.

Whenever I go overseas (obviously not possible at the moment) I always know I've come home after touching down in Sydney airport when I see Australia's distinctive, dry vegetation. I have had the supreme luck of living next to a national park for the past 19 years, and the smells, shapes, and colours of the Australian landscape have always been emblematic of home to me. However, as much as the Australian landscape holds my heart, I can't claim to have the deep generational tether that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people have to the Australian Land.

Note: For those not familiar with what a Bunyip is, Britannica describes it as, "... in Australian Aboriginal folklore, a legendary monster said to inhabit the reedy swamps and lagoons of the interior of Australia."