From Nan's house to mum's house the clouds all different or so it seems
They cast their shadows all around I lay here shoes off
singing out loud counting cloud shapes and sounds
I feel clouds vibrate as they slip through seasons they come and go
Makuru sounds are heavy long and slow
running feet a footy being kicked through all my cousins playing, jumping, running
then stop we sit idle shhh now cuz don't make a move
Let's take in the fresh air singing and dancing in the creek
without a care the voices of our ancestors balga trees everywhere
feels like home whispering you're safe kid you're not on your own
Trees are speaking –be honest be real– as Makuru closes and Djilba appears
Nan is waiting we can smell her sweet cooking She calls us holds us
shares a good yarn the scent of moort in the air many lessons in conversation
what a privilege to share

Our Elders our Nan I bow down respecting your stories
the knowledge you share with us all is now written in books as if it's new
like it's not been done before our traditions old ways new ways
learned from our elders on those precious days
Culture Connection Community the answers we had it right
the only way forward working together with open hearts and open minds
Nan called me the Cloud Watcher always singing my plans and thoughts out loud
as clouds move past into present then future Nan's words
now make sense my first life teacher Integrity Country connection fills
my heart my mind my soul
Bless Nan Margaret
RIP
26.6.1983