it starts
with smoke
it always starts with smoke
mothers burred at the belly
swollen as the great trees
come to this place
painted and slow with a gasping gift
canopy medicine
to welcome
the person on hands and knees
whose new blood makes magic
makes the earth anew
the grunting sweat almost terror
turns to
bliss
as sweet cries
wake the bush wake first eyes
sweated face becomes pure
like rain
like day break
when the world shifts
from two set
wet heartbeats the wet orange womb glow
to bright white light
and the gasping bub of day
break cries
there is white smoke
to clear the bush to cleanse the air to welcome
wrinkled and furled
as a new leaf
sweet medicine
in the coolamon carried wet and green
and old hands
born here too
know the way to ash tie belly knots
clever hands
don’t forget this place
where life begins
tell it to the bubs to pass onto theirs
when strangers come
when other trees fall
here in a vast hollow medicine tree
this is where life begins
a tree so great
has a memory so long
can feel the way the air has changed
hard rivers have formed in this bush
black flat tar
where great steel fish swim
smoke turned dirty
and the river of destruction
comes closer
white hands white hats white clipboards
avert their gaze from her
mark on gridded maps
to bring death here
to a place of life
and so it starts new
with smoke
and familiar camp fire sweet smoke
for birth for fight
textures change and
languages combine
the old words remain return
medicine remembered
fires built the proper way
people gather
paint bodies paint signs
she waits she sighs
remembers the thousands she birthed here
sees them return
carrying ancestors
carrying bubs
carrying the weight of
police and policy and time
together
carrying sweet smoke
to keep her safe
*this poem is dedicated to the humbling work of the Djab Wurrung Embassy, with their blessing
Image from Justin McManus. More information on how to support the Djab Wurrung embassy can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-GTkdfwZDfvW26yvRuOMmx4p4hM73Im5dxk-GMElSJI/edit
