She’ll be right
And once again a nation stares – hard to believe our eyes.
Mother Nature's struck again – unleashed her wild desires.
She is sick of drought and fire, and of heat and sunburnt plains,
so she’s checked her weather diary and has sent her biggest rains.
She started in the middle where the worst bushfires held sway,
where the land was scorched and blackened and it struggled still each day.
Sent the lifeblood of her waters to fill up the inland streams
and replenish water tables where no water has been seen
for more years than some could count – where the land was parched and dry
and the planted crops have perished, ‘neath the cloudless azure sky;
then she’s moved up to the top end sprinkling along the way
like a small mischievous elf who just wanted us to play.
Now the old girl’s got quite serious and from the heavens poured
water and still more water – now the whole state must endure
the endless drip of rain on roof, the roar of rivers drumming,
still undeterred she’s sent down more till all rivers are running.
Now she has a cyclone brewing somewhere on the western side
and it seems they too will feel her ire – she isn’t at all tired.
And you have to wonder what she has in store for all of us
who treat her with impunity and turn her soil to dust.
She is stronger by far than puny man – despite technology
that she casts aside in fury – from the sky, on land and sea,
and despite our smartest scientists and our computer nerds
what the Mother wants the Mother gets, by us she’s undeterred.
As I listen to the radio to hear the latest warnings
of the river waters rising – now for sunlight I am yearning.
I hear an old familiar tune remembered from long ago
when I used to go to Sunday school – and its words I still know.
For the words still hold as true today as they did way back then
and they once gave hope and courage to the souls of dying men
as Titanic foundered downwards to her deep and watery grave,
the band played on. Eight young brave men – not one of whom was saved.
‘Nearer my God to thee’ they played, unflinching to the last
though the deck was nearly vertical - the ship was sinking fast,
and though we might be flooded, as it seems is half the state
I suspect we’ll be survivors – like before – She’ll be right mate.
Maureen Clifford © 12/10
