west of Alice Springs
the Finke River rambles
roots of ancient eucalypts
Namatjira paints his soul
ghost gums
of shadowed valleys
anchored in rusty soil
sure strokes build purple hills
splintered grass
the blood-stained horizon
rimmed by knuckles of rock
Namatjira wanders
beneath corymbia
tasselled leaves
on sparse branches
netting stars and moon
beside waterholes
frilled with cabbage palms
gathering with kin
elders sing
dreamtime stories
feet tamp the circle
sparks rising unhindered
through eucalypt crowns
where the Finke River roams
Namatjira mixes pigments
with water of this land
