Walmadany
Brenda Saunders
Footsteps of giant creatures cross the ancient mud
A thousand paw prints caught in pitted sandstone
run along the shore, fill as rock pools at high tide
The Goolarabaroo sing the trail of a Marrala Man
A great emu races by, shedding feathers from his tail
Leaves fern-like patterns pressed into rock
Their lives are linked to Greater cycles, moving stars
Seven Sisters Dreaming spans the sky to Uluru
moves further east as far as ‘sunrise country’
Today the white men have come to take the inside
out of our country. Search in places far deeper
then the Snake man shaping the land long ago
Woodside have found gas under the ocean
offer leases, promise wealth to the shrinking tribes
to young men drifting to towns down south
The people make a stand on different grounds
one group against the other. Some welcome change
new ideas, share the white man’s dreams
Others know the land is not theirs to give. Hold to
the natural law. Traditional men fear the talk
of pipelines, jetties, a gas hub along the Bay
For centuries they walk the Lurrujarri Dreaming
sing the songlines along the coastal plain. Follow
the seasons on ‘the land where the sun goes down
Back from the dunes, shell middens lie bleached
and massed. Spear heads, grinding tools left
unguarded, testify to years of Ceremony
They watch for whales calving off the cliff
trap dugongs in channels on the turquoise reef
feasting on turtle eggs laid under warm sand
Their footsteps tread lightly on Country. Swept
by wind and tide, they leave no sign of possession
their imprint easily lost to the weight of change
A swinging ball is no match for memories stored
in sand, sacred stories stretching to Walmadany
Their hero spirit looks down, guards the Point
his ochre cliffs hold fire from a falling sun. Belief
lies deeper than the promise of riches. Invisible gas
captured off-shore, flowing under a darkening sea.
