BY CHRISTOPHER BATTAMS, 1998
It was the last Casuarina along the marbled rise
that caressed the breeze under azure skies
bending softly in the morning light
it spoke of lovers in the night
and of how when the great moon came
they found their cave alright
Here and there the orchid flower
speaks to me of a Divine power
and honeyeaters drooping along the fronds
gurgle their essence in their song
the song that is the voice of the world
since time began and flowers uncurled
the honeyeaters sing this is the place
the bower of the human race
Those carefully woven fronds
make a universe of warbled song
the last long haired Casuarina stands
and in its glory displays the land
it sings and whispers in the morning breeze
and its message floats among the trees
Author Bio
My name is Christopher and I am a 70-year-old pensioner with heart issues. Writing poetry is one of my lasting hobbies. It has taken me many years to find my own voice. I was a science teacher before I retired. I write about Indigenous issues, family, Australian environments, plants and animals. One of my focuses is trees. Casuarina is a poem about such a tree.
Post published 02/11/2026
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