So like many of my generation, I grew up in a fairly racist community. It's not that we were practicing white supremacists, we were just uneducated about these matters. It was a community where all the bad words were used, jokes were told, and I laughed at them. It was a different time.
In time though, I began to learn, & I have since lived and worked with many different cultures, and find them all equally fascinating. I no longer use those bad words, and will call you out if I see or hear you being racist.
I have learnt that no matter where you are born, or the colour of your skin, you are no better or worse than me.
These days I will treat people the way I would like to be treated, regardless of their ethnic background.
I do love a good history lesson, and I especially love Australian history, and fortunately we have thousands of years of it to learn.
This poem is dedicated to the original Australians, we can learn a lot from their culture.
Guardians of the land
In a realm where spirits roamed the earth,
Lived people who knew their land’s true worth,
Under the vast skies, their ways untold,
Ancient souls, in tune with life’s pure gold.
A harmony with nature, woven in their veins,
Guardians of the land, from mountains to plains,
Echoes of age-old tales, carried by the breeze,
A culture rich and thriving, beneath the swaying trees.
Before foreign ships, before distant lands,
Ancestral spirits, their heritage expands,
From Dreamtime lore and stories passed down,
This heritage revered, like a precious crown.
Art etched on rocks, a narrative unfurled,
Tales of creation in a timeless world,
From desert sands to ocean’s embrace,
Their connection to Earth, a steadfast grace.
Through generations, wisdom’s torch they bore,
Surviving, thriving, facing hardships galore,
With hearts of fire, spirits unyielding,
Their legacy’s thread forever weaving.
In their timeless footsteps, we humbly stand,
Acknowledging their legacy across this land,
With respect and mindfulness, let their stories take flight,
Their ancient presence shining, in history’s light.
A harmony with nature, woven in their veins,
Guardians of the land, from mountains to plains,
Echoes of age-old tales, carried by the breeze,
A culture rich and thriving, beneath the swaying trees.
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