Garawan Wanambi: Marrangu, ceremonial pole
from the world’s pattern of shapes you have chosen
to paint the geometry of diamonds and though we
have not met I too will introduce myself to you through
art—this pen my stick, this line my line, unlimned
an unbroken circle tracking back like lichen to bark
past iconostasis, back to the land that existed before
before land’s market price defined the ocean’s edge …
linear time is not time, but a form
clenching, unclenching its cold heat, the fist of a tree
its surface cracking open under a frowning sun …
four more lines to decorate, Garawan: with sea mist, shells
a delicate fish spine; certainty, uncertainty: yours and mine—
all our presence is brief but before art there was ceremony
before memory: the scrape of the moon’s teeth
