-
Surrendering To Country: Yarramundi Under Water
*These words are offered in service to the beautiful wise Old People of the Dharug, upon whose ancestral home my life and work are now nourished and nurtured, and to Country Itself, whose living and intentional soul permeates my own. I acknowledge the stolen land, culture, families, and histories here, and through my life-work resist…
-
Feel The Storm
Feel the storm In your skin Flickering Day light into the dark Blinking into The roaring sky Swimming overhead. Shake the foundations Of our cages A melody of rain Switches keys Sinking into the ground As lovers sink Into each others arms. Another flash From the groaning sky As trees sigh And ground heaves up…
-
Back To The Sea
*This photo was taken November last year. It captures a rare moment of wholeness, peace, and belonging that otherwise eluded me during that time, and the tumultuous months preceding and following it. Having learnt much about my heritage since, and begun a journey of discovery, freedom, and healing across generations, I feel that one particular…
-
Walking Country
Mother reaches upwards, Through soil and stone, Into the soles of my bare feet As I walk upon Country – Patient, humble, And with respect.
-
Sacred Wet, Sacred Dry
*I would like to acknowledge that aspects of this poem come from Indigenous lore shared by Uncle Paul Gordon, and built upon by many generous members of the Aboriginal communities of eastern to north western NSW who kindly choose to share their living stories and storied lives with me. I pay my respects to the…
-
All Birds Are A Little Bit Crazy, And That’s Okay
Sometimes, I wish I were a bird – My golden voice would be loud and heard, Singing my songs for all of the day, And when the dark comes, flying away. Oh yes, how I wish the bird were me, So many ways that I could be free. Sometimes I dream that I’m an owl…
-
The Winter Death
In the dark of winter We turn inward, water reflecting – Healing summers heated battles And autumns releasing falls. We dream with the Yew tree, Crossing the winter bridge Towards the Birch reborn, Where all that ends, emerges anew. Winter is a thin place, A veil between worlds Across which life force And the deathly…
-
Moved By Mountains
I am many things; I can be many things. I am kookaburra, I am black cockatoo. I am the snake on the path, Honeyeater and her nectar, Dragonfly, moth, pebble. I am kangaroo. I am the unloved ones: Cockroach, fly, mosquito, Bat, cat, fox, vulture… I am great white shark. I am the glorified ones:…
“Upside-down for a Bat is right way up.
~ Sara Kianga Bat ~
They’re like me – different, but made with the
right stuff to be who they are.
We’re upside-down people.”
Little Bat 