A Parable

Interventionists are coming interventionists are coming the cries echo through the dusty community as the army arrive in their chariots. Parents and children race for the sand hills burying the tommy axes and the rifela hiding in abandoned cars along the fence line. One woman ran to the waterhole hiding her baby in the reeds dusting her footprints with gumleaf. Other children went and got their cousin shouting mum you gone rama rama you should see the clinic. That night the woman went back to the waterhole leaving her child in the reeds again this time in a basket. In the morning the children return holding their cousin crying mum you gone rama rama you should see the doctor. At the clinic I feel her pulse check her blood pressure test for diabetes. Staring deeply in my eyes until finally our heads bent she whispers quietly in Luritja this son him name Moses.