Far off, in Nature’s tangled embrace,
Is the eternal resting place of pioneers.
Their strength and souls traded
For a homesick existence
And battle to harness foreign soil.
Headstones, born of an adopted homeland,
Are enduring markers, some exhaustedly drooping,
While others, proudly and triumphantly unbowed,
All images of those sleeping beneath,
Their struggles earning them eternal repose.
Protectively nestled amongst these granite guardians,
Are heartbroken markers of children, promise extinguished.
This remote, long-abandoned graveyard,
Overgrown with gangly grasses and wiry weeds,
Where aged, weathered gums wearily lean
In sympathy, on the toppling fence,
Their infirmity marking time passing,
Ever spreading their shading branches,
To shield peacefully reposing pioneers
From the nearby frantic concrete highway,
So far removed from pickaxe-hewn tracks
Wrestled from a hostile environment.
Modern technology,
Hurtling by, focused on tomorrow,
No time for dwelling in the past.
Embraced evermore by Nature
In the land these pioneers struggled to tame,
This tiny graveyard remains unnoticed
Except by wildlife, engaged in living
While foraging sheep trade a struggle
Against the wire for grassy tufts.
Those resting, expected no accolades,
At best, the passing thought of a descendant?
Pioneers, their mark on this land,
Evidence of existence,
Where the battle to survive
Consumed hope and energy
In shaping the future.
And yet…..
Would these pioneers repose so peacefully
If knowing
That the land they sought to tame
Was only ever on loan
From more ancient owners?
Merle A. Cornell
KILMORE, VICTORIA