SHARED HISTORY

History despite its wrenching pain 

cannot be unlived,

but if faced with courage,

need not be lived again    Maya Angelou

there’s something in the shining light

that lends itself to thoughts of hope

perhaps it is a brashness – the way it glows

so cheerfully in this cloudless winter time

perhaps the way it dresses up the land

catches blue kingfishers on their wing

festoons the leaves   the rocks   the trees 

today it lights the darkest claw on time

burns away clouds of brutal wrong

touches blood-stained earth

of blame of shame

too long consumed

too many years   too many tears

one hundred and eighty years

now together we walk this way

the Myall Creek Memorial Way

the light plays the red gravel of its track

and flickers on tiny wrens in nearby scrub

there’s a quietness amidst camaraderie

swish of ropes   yells   grapple of chains

are stilled now

murdering rage and gall are quieted

smell of gun powder spent

yet screams that cried that stark cold night

still sigh amidst the sway

of stringy bark and eucalypt

there’s something in the shining light

that lends itself to thoughts of hope

perhaps it is the cleansing smoke   the way

we catch the mica glint on granite stone

and how we stop and read and bow our heads

no longer in the blinding dark and listen

to a people’s heart and our shared history

(c)  COLLEEN KEATING