Australian Aboriginal women


I dedicated this to the Australian Aboriginal women

Can we imagine?
Being born by a river
Gently rested on a lily pad
A woman is singing praises
To which love’s eyes pays a gaze
She has tired eyes
As she wades besides the lily pad
Filling her string bag with lily roots
Fish, buds, tortoises
She is tired but she still sings
At night, around a fire
Sitting with family
Sharing food, cooked in hot ashes
Children are laughing and playing
The mother is singing
Her baby is on her breast
Women gathering telling stories, sharing, giving
In a language rarely used today
Today there is no more river, but a big dam now
No string bag, because it is empty
The Supermarket is now
Women sitting in houses or huts
Sharing, singing, remembering
A baby clinging to a mother’s breast
Women telling stories
New stories, new names
A new language, For a language is lost


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