Matron of the festival,
child of the hazy dream land,
herald of the time strayed deities.
With a raspy roar you call us out from our withered inflection,
into the maddening fire hive
rampantly dancing like indigineous arcane inventions.
Water bearer to the fractured hillside warriors,
queen of the concrete paradise,
ferry us to the elusive body of the moment
and rid us of our abnormal myopic reality.
Wandering child,
Beautiful child,
your epic expedition is at its timely genesis.
I pray the world is prepared
for your vivid prismatic anima
and the staunch anthem of revolution.

i am sorry.

i am sorry....
that peoples, of a different colour.
came from wherever,
upon great hulking ships
with sails of white
and humanity degraded,
lost beyond heaven's sight. and misunderstood
your nations and land.
your dreaming time,
and native life.

i am sorry ...
this caused, so much loss, death and strife

i am sorry...
with their need and conquering ways they,
over much time,
generations in fact.
showed you,
the indigineous so little grace.

i am sorry...
for the generations of death.

i am sorry ...
for the generation of lost.

so sorry ...
to those, still paying the cost and looking for family and clan.

i am sorry ...
for the, communities lies,
indifference and fear.

i am sorry ...
that still you suffer and die. younger, than you should.

but now......
you and i,
must become... we
and change the world,
with hard work and harmony.
we must make it, better, safer, healthier....

more...
education,
less preaching.
more...
mental health checks
less blame.
healthier ways of living. giving.....
knowledge goes both ways. more...
hope in a bright, bright future.
more...
consultation, understanding of language and ways.
less...
empty rhetoric and laywer's plays.

i am sorry ....
for the past.

but...
ultimately and completely hopeful...
for the future.