Looking into the Land

I write this poem and I know I look toward a view,
Which a Kurnai family looked out up on,
Not so long ago.
Although obscured by trees.

I know this from the tools they left behind.
I find them when I dig out potatoes,
Or make a new hole for a fence post.
Stones fashioned with sharp edges.
Worn river stones with ground indentations.
Also small lumps of red clay-stone.
Completely misplaced in their habitat of quartz and granitic sand.

Sometimes I feel pleasantly haunted.
I imagine people's song,
In the swirling, rustling of forest leaves.
I think about them as I walk,
Mindfully.
I can imagine them singing their country,
Their foot-falls in unison with their beating hearts,
Like my own.

It is said,
this valley means possum.
In my mind I see,
Mothers in possum skin cloaks,
Their babes bundled snugly on their backs.
The Kurnai are coastal people,
But our valley stands on a 'way'.
A well walked route to the higher Monaro plains.

I  like to dream and draw,
The ancient earth creatures,
Said to inhabit this land;
Dimbulan, Dulagar, Nyol, Bagini.
they enliven my imagination.

I feel enriched by this place,
and all I survey.