Yananha Ngurambang-gu (Going toward country)

Being able to connect to my Wiradjuri country, culture and identity has been one of the most healing things I've been able to do but it comes with a colonial legacy that is hard to battle through.

I feel the earth throb under my hands.

The ancient dirt fills

The crevices left by DNA codes,

Cracks of skin and heat and sharp accidents.

Severed skin.

I don’t know my skin.

I saw the elders in the ants and roos.

In that early morning dew

And late night smoky embers.

They’re in my skin deep,

Bruised out by the sun,

They spread quickly

'Till they cover my whole face black and blue.

My family hidden

And revealed again.

I hear the garru singing by my window.

Welcome home, she said, welcome home.

Translation

Garru: magpie