We’re not an island
Any of us conglomerate
Coastline scarred, sacred, singing
Wave, wave
Wind whale sky
Glass bottle beaches
Old explosions
Noted, not forgotten
We dance them yet under our dying stars
And blood
Famine
Bone-white smoke over bruises
Simmering oils, leaves on hot coals
We want you back, ancient ones
Call us out,
Return us to ourselves

Through your vines and cataracts
We are hearing your commands
Through your starving rivers
We are thirsting for your love
We who were made to be home here
Unnaturally naturalised and by our nature, tame
Tell us your truths. Reverse our death
Resurrection homeland waiting for
Us, children.