Sacred Places

Sacred places abound
in this ancient continent. 
Caves with ochre painted
figures storyboarded on walls,
mountains, scrub plains
and rock pools glistening 
in the sun seared outback 
where spirits come 
to bathe at night 
in the cool, clear water.

The land here has never 
been roused from its dream.
Creation continues to write
its story in the rocks and the dry, 
red earth and on the bark 
of ghost gums standing 
in the silence.
But something is wrong.

There are places 
where each taken step sets
a tremble upon the ground
as if beneath human feet
sleeps something terrifying,
bigger than a buried mountain. 
Late at night in the starlit air
you can hear it breathe.

Listen….. listen. 
The land calls,
beckoning us in whispers,
warning us, reaching out
to the sacred places
in our own souls.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Meadows Avatar
October 30, 2023 at 5:29 AM
A good poem. Well done.
Lawless Avatar
October 30, 2023 at 4:58 AM
Would that we would all listen Paul. A powerful write calling us all to task for our refusal to hear the cries of the souls of those sacred places. Beautifully written
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