falling mother sky
on the returning of the rain
and her crystal dot-paintings that blanket the wetland
singing for her children
with the gentle stipple
she called out once,
and paused in the unanswering,
she screamed down twice
harmonising with thunder
and still
no Turrubul
the animals panicked amongst themselves
as the clouds swirled and fumbled
while the land had not an interpretation
for their acts of madness
so the rain cried onto the wetland
for Turrubul
her vein
until the night birds joined her
as the little spirits all scattered
searching the darkness
and the cycles left unattended
by Turrubul law,
the elements left