I can't see those hills

I wish I had your winning formula

The ability to block the sunlight with one hand

When it's to bright for the morning, too much for the day

We can't control the sun or the clouds that soon gather 

We can't control the rain that falls on far horizon

A scrape of grey by the master painter

Appearing and then dispersing, we know those hills will be green

I can't see those hills defined by the skyline

Etched with tussocky shrubs and rocks

I can't see the paths that lead that high

Or the small paths worn by padded paws

I can't see the waterfalls running under tall grasses

Or the rock collections that disturb the flows 

I can't see over the next rise or range

It's hidden from me here on my small slice

I see the river drying up, slimey pools darken

Slowly diminishing in size until birds abandon them

I know the future rains will come

It might be in the next generation, a discovery, a climate change

A few more numbers to write on the wall

The trees stand witness to the current horror

Yet they don't call it that

With charcoal spines and naked roots

They drink in broad daylight, not ashamed

Hollows carved by bugs, shaped by wind

These holes are framed with jagged edges

Ripped out limbs gone cold, black scars

Revealing cambium, galahs feast on raw hide

There is no shame in the silhouette 

Lit faintly by the new moon, red heart no longer

The canopy sleeps until the earth tilts again

Is there no weariness in the tree?

Whose problem will it be when the river roars again

Soaking dead root systems, loosening compacted soil

What was baked by the sun, porcelain statements

Becomes a miry pit, a stinking mess of moldy grass heads

Contrast with the fresh shoots, found seeds defying logic

Once proud limbs, a bird's chorus stage

Covered in Ironbark, untouched by time

Falls, carried by waters too strong, downstream

Whose problem is it now? 

Until one that is stronger, perhaps younger

Halts the debris, breaking the dead boughs

Violent structures breaking society rules 

Root systems resilient, stretched and nutrient rich

Holding a new collection of wood, not belonging but making,

Making new dams for waters to gouge deeper routes

Divers maps too vast for one eye to see.