Colors Of The Mulga Wood

Worumgala?
Where are you from?
Worum mwa?
Where are you going?

The smoke rose lazily,
as the wall climbed to a moonless sky
She lay on her back,
watching the stars die,
beside a blazing fire.

In silence they plodded on.

They stood,
ants on a gargantuan tableau.
The bird songs echoed among the moon-white trees.
Strange sounds.
Butterflies swarmed in a great rainbow-tainted cloud,
shimmering, palpitating, rising and falling.

Gathering flood of fear,
chuckle of happiness.

Ordinary boy,Ordinary girl.
Sad-looking too.

He was just another bird,
that held the children spell-bound.

A kaleidoscope of strange pigments
and exciting, unexpected contrasts.
A creature of pure beauty.
No, just ebony black and naked,
with a curious hint of bronze.

Little folds of mist moved softly around.
Pools of silver,
bathed in golden light.
Lies.

The whisper of the creek.
Be quiet,
clear the cobalt sky,
I’ll look after you.
Kurura.

And that was the only word he spoke.

A dingo howled at the crescent moon.
In the false dawn,
Her long golden hair lay tumbled about his face.

One door, one window, one chimney, one pathway lined with flowers.

Simple.

-

Note: This is found poetry, as in you take random words or phrases and organize them into a poem. I did this for a school project. It is based on the novel Walkabout by James Vance Marshall. Unless you have read the book or know the basic idea of it, you probably wouldn't understand this poem very well. So, if you have free time and would like background on the story to help you better understand this poem, I suggest you go to this page: en./wiki/Walkabout(novel)
-FYI: Kurura means "follow me"