Footprints

When last she ran to your embrace
her feet could fit into your hands;
they nestled warmly in your palms,
two little quails that smelt of grasses,
pair of bare, pink heels that darted
shyly on your dreaming-trails,
quickening your heart alone in darkness.

Holding your daughter's small, warm heels
like talismans against your fears,
you murmured in her drowsy ear
the stories of that epic trek - you, her mother,
child again, leading the two younger ones,
fleeing from the snares the white men set,
from drawn-out, living death,
beside the fence the strangers built to keep
the rabbit hordes in check. People who need
fences will imprison anything, you guessed.

Your feet remember every step - your feet,
those uncomplaining friends, who bore the thorns,
the bruising stones, the distances, as best they could.
Always to the south they led, to campfires
by the river-bed, the soft earth underfoot
that told you "welcome, daughter, welcome back."
The stars that blistered overhead reminded you
how many steps - how many lay behind, ahead,
before you could enjoy your rest.

You crouched beside the sleeping forms
to guard them against predators,
your spine echoed the sacred chanting,
bones a dirge of weariness.

They tore your daughter from your breast.
You never saw her face again, nor held her feet
to feel them grow, nor watched them run
in wilderness. You waited all your life
to learn what happened to those tender soles
so like your own, to hear some shred
of news, learn where those footsteps led.
No tidings reached you from the earth,
nor mercy from the firmament.

The strangers stole your name, your child,
and told you it was for the best.
They took your home, your peace of mind,
but could not touch your innocence.

Now you see only plains of stars
in place of gibbers, tussock-grass.
They are the campfires of the heart,
the paths where ancestors once passed...




*For Molly Craig, an Australian Aboriginal
woman who died January 16, 2004, aged 87.
In 1931 she escaped with her younger sister
and cousin from a mission station where they
had been taken after forcible removal from
their families, and trekked through 1,600
kilometres of semi-desert, following the
route of the rabbit-proof fence, to rejoin
their community. Their epic journey formed
the basis of a recent film, "Rabbit-proof Fence".