Originally part of Trail of Tales, Adelaide Fringe Festival CS Dunn ©2015
The sheoak whispers and sings
A wattlebird warbles and whistles
The laughing bird claims the tree – my tree, my tree, mine
A possum tail hides high in the river red gum
Silver-green leaves revel in the dancing light
Shivers of bark peel and curl and swirl down the trunk
The ancient tree claims the ground – my place, my place, mine
The shuffling, scuffling leaves travel the path unknown
Blown by a trickle of breeze that wanders away
Ignorant of the bossy grumble of creek that warns of
The power of earth, of clay, of stone
The swollen ground claims the creek – my creek, my creek, mine
The sway of stems, green, brown, gold
Lit by a hint of sun, of light, of motion
Grasses murmur, rattle, flowers lure
The bee, the bird, the possum
Claim the flowers, the meadow, the stream
The restless creek claims the water – my water, my water, mine
Noise, croaking frogs, screaking insects
Water moves, slides, sloshes
Comes from somewhere to go elsewhere
Giggles and gurgles, splatters and swirls
Splashes and chuckles, titters and cackles
The music of water as it passes
The water claims the rock – my place, my place, mine
The earth, sand, soil, stones
Rocks, grey, brown, tinged with gold
Deny the movement of time
Solid, motionless
They hold their place
Sentinel, foundation
Streaked with white and silver, with memories
The rock claims the age – forever, forever, and now.
