Bora born
The perfect storm _
Water birthed on coral seas, in orange
shades of green over bleached white silky sands.
Kaleidoscopes of blended colour tease
a wish from creators bow, steady now.
Lifted high, currents of moisture carry
their prayer ever up, polyps in distress.
Heated days, limped nights, the cauldron now
simmers in a shimmering monsoon haze.
Roll over, rainbow beauty, kiss her
into life, freedom given to wander.
The serpent in splendid form, eager to
please, a being forms in a torpid wet.
Colour burst, the serpent rises, given
life on solar rays, insatiable thirst.
Beautiful creature, kissed by fate, colours
drawn from deep below through saline crystals.
Far from land, freshly innocent, cradled
by warm intentions sometimes fleeced in clouds.
For those who see, wagon trains sent out in all
directions, on spirals of thought well defined.
The serpent moves, restless now, drawn to the
scent of the sunburnt ancient land nearby.
Spawned by right, the giver of life in fire
creatures lore, to witness this land of Oz.
Playtime, steered by the jet stream, forgetful
thing, which way will you go, innocence tossed.
Flexing peace, power expands, the breath rattles
sucking in the vacuumed space from far below.
Like a dervish, the adolescent dance
of desire across the Cape into
the Gulf, to reform in temped brine.
Matured right, never quite the same again.
So much space, the serpent flexes, spiraled
thought patterns the void. Protect me life cries.
Seas so shallow feed the creature, warmed by
degree, the giant heat engine over revs.
The mother of storms, perfect in form, cries
out to those who would listen within mind.
Remember who you are, refresh your time
in language sung in ritual splendour.
Answers come, fire creatures of light, bless her
passage past their children, through frightened nights.
The serpent exhausted spends its' force, the
life blood floods the land, diffuse within all.
- O -
© apr 2006_ Nhawrr yirrpa
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The perfect storm _
The perfect storm _
