Bora born
Sister moon _
Left to devices unknown, Yarrabah
beauty of a quality seldom seen.
Eternal rush, always on the rise, yet
never impatient, just eager to please.
Married to your fate, spill a little our
way, passive back filled lighter of soft dreams.
What would you show us on this windy, cold
tropical night. We see you blessed thing.
Over the range you show your lewd self, walk
away, look up at something not quite right.
The walk into town taken over by
your presence, through that hole in the thick cloud.
Perfect in form, yet why is it there this
space. Wisps of cloud rush in, pull back, watch this.
It doesn't move this hole, neither shrink nor
stretch, the brim of cloud defines loose held space.
As a search light from above, lens opened
the centre of the gateway a little
off course perhaps, made known to mortals in
the hour your passage peels back eyes to see.
The finale, two days later, daylight
greeted overcast skies after breakfast.
Cloud, slightly more dense, formed the pattern.
A circle stamped from above, miles across
to tease by wonder as the ALL draws near.
- O -
© june 2006 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
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Sister moon _
Sister moon _
