easter bilby thinking about it

the small mammals extinctions investigations team SMEIT

observed gravely the ebb of the meaty little marsupialia

whose receding horizons repeated the retreating edge

of the two million year old oceans

and the shape of my argument

and the fading interface of conversation

between eagle


and  bilby


in the new dawning

in the new day


and SMEIT cried out across the broadening celestial beach

a-glitter (as ours are) with galaxies


and the small marsupial spirit people said

with their soft human voices

quietly packing their goods

but you’ve killed us all,

you’ve put us in missions in schools in jails

killed the dreaming places

killed the songs

killed the magic metaphysics

killed our souls

we have no magic now

and so we die

our spirits go

home to the stars

to be never reborn in the warm brown

mother beast


 of earth


and how could anyone explain

the chagrin and remorse

the pity

and the pain

for the pitter patter paws through the summer grass

and the sensitive whiskers in the straw


so for the sake of the dying children

and the sorrowing mother of the dying babes

so beautiful eyed so mysterious eyed

they captured bilby by the tail

and hauled him home

and called him divine, equal to a rabbit

and wrapped him all chocolate in gold and silver

with silk and cellophane references

to the astral plane and gt britain’s pagan past


and they magicked him whitefella-way

into kid’s playrooms

and they picture-book tjurunga’d him into

soft-toy captivity

(so he felt)

and called him an egg-giver


which scared him silly

because he’s not a monotreme


through the window into easter

bilby saw the jesus-on-the-cross

every year a jesus-on-the-cross


but the stars, the stars

are in mrs bilby’s eyes

and she’s sorry,

she just has to go


though the continent shriek

to the pleiades

and erupt with outraged totally articulate

well worth the reading

dot pictures

at the murderers

and raise magic music droning

from all campfire circles

for the dying off of species

the deaths of sentient selves


because the massacred martyrs

had gentle philosophies

and the bilby man and the bilby woman

deplore human sacrifice

and they fled.


if somebody please would explain to bilby

wtf wuth thet symbl?

the tide may very well return, yes,

if this is a good planet, the tide might turn…


so we’re walking them home with love

home from their distant palaces and plains

stitched of star rays sequinned with galaxies

into their magic marsupial mother pouch tunnels

to their blue sky green grass brown earth lives

with their houses and culture and school and technology

brothers and sisters together with us

again at last

earth-born children of star-born spirits

bringing us star spirit virtues

star spirit wisdom

star spirit magic

and the universal call

of love.

3 thoughts on “easter bilby thinking about it

  1. Reblogged this on The Wistful Dragon and commented:
    There is a Wise One, a druid, who lives far down south, sister the the Mallee, and sister to my heart. She speaks a language woven out of dragon-thought and a million time-defying interconnections, and has a soul blessed with too-much-seeing-hearing-and-feeling that blesses messes where others only seem determined to claw each other’s eyes out. Given the time of year, and given that I’m so deeply blessed to share conversations with Wyverne that stretch and defy the time span of our knowing each other here, I give you her poem. although poem is a poor word, here.Not rich enough. I give you her expression, her comprehension…even those words are inadequate. i give you Wyld Wyverne:

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