PASSAGE OF TIME CELEBRATED . . .

In the pastel light, after a hot day, in the setting sun
upon the escarpment, in fissure, a solitary Ghost Gum
absorbing, on its twisted white limbs, sun's dying ray
higher up, among rocks, surefooted wallabies play

In the sudden descending blackness of tropical night
the quietness, the landscape becomes a different sight
there are no stark, brilliant colours by light of full moon
eerie shapes, strange shadows, delicate flowers bloom

Crocodiles in water courses, patiently waiting for prey
water buffalo, wild horses, thirsty, edgy, slowly try
on ground and overhead flocks of migratory birds
cacophony of sound, deafening, nothing else is heard

Change of seasons, from dry to wet, tattoo of rain
transforming parched landscape to endless green plain
the walls of sandstone gorges take on whole new sheen
on some, simple Aboriginal paintings, a sight to be seen

The wet season has started, revitalising again this land
torrents of water, in, what was yesterday, river of sand
sometimes the seasons change early, sometimes late
an annual ritual, the passage of time, it helps to celebrate