Standing on top of the hill
Looking to the four corners, to the river in the east, to the mountain where the river rises in the north, to the forest in the south and again, to the river in the north,
I walk in the direction, walk in beauty and reverence in the direction where the sun rises, sun rises.
Along the dreaming track there are traces of life in the drought,
To the bend in the river
Currawongs lope across the sky crying currawonnggg, currawonngggg.
Ravens sit in the high trees and languidly caaawww out through the mist as the dawn breaks
And I reach the river, the river flows, is flowing, was flowing, will flow
Along the waterway, along the waterway,
The eels and fish are at play, the eels and fish are at play,
The kind parrots dash by with their red wings flying, red wings flying,
And the willie wagtails are dancing,
Dancing up and down, dancing on the ground, chirping all aroudn,
Along the river way, along the river way,
Where the big trees tower above the water,
Where the big trees tower above the water,
And the blossom blooms in bunches of white,
Along the river way, along the river way,
The ducks are swimming in the lake,
The ibis are digging for food,
The bush turkeys are fossicking in the dirt,
And the wind blows its breath through the land, through the trees, to me.
It is sacred.
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