(c) 3/2/2002. By Poetlife.
I am the ancient one of trees,
In my name.
My spirit lives within their leaves,
Born of ancient seeds,
Carried on the winds of time,
Birds our friends.
Our roots burrow deep into the earth,
Fed by natural springs- rain,
From time beyond this land of ours
Space and race.
Clean air, shelter, food we bring forth,
Share in joy
Peace this space, place in time,
With sisters an brothers,
Our nature race.
We dwell in the bush,
Valleys, mountain sides,
Before, beyond your time place,
Our roots beneath and above the earth entwined,
Feel and know all approach and time.
Bush spirits, watch and warn,
March of "fire-hands, have again begun,
You have been our cruel enemy so long,
What have we done ?
We watch with fearful tear filled eyes,
At your heartless,
Seeds of cruelty of your minds.
We know your names,
Who set us alight,
We cannot flee the flames and heat,
Eyes watch tranfixed,
By ancient roots of wisdom time.
As you watch us perish,
In the furnace of your hate.
We feel the agony you inflict,
An wait for showers before it's too late.
Our spirits deep wounds,
Some may heal,
If not dead.
Rejuvenised to life,
Struggle to raise our heads,
When cycle of new life
Begins once more.
We shoot forth with new life again.
Watch, hope, pray,
We can all share this land,
Love, respect, care.
Man and nature hand in hand,
The price you will pay is high,
When we vanish,
By the poison of your minds.
May fire leave your hands,
And our lands,
Your fingers green sprouts shoot forth,
To tend our lands,
So we may grow,
Together as before.
We have a right to life,
We help all life,
May we forever together grow,
In the conscientious of your heart,
We seek to stay,
© Copyright 2017 Poetlife. All rights reserved.
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