I am thrilled to have been recognised in the Mulga Bill Writing Award. My poem, ‘Zenadth Kes Arrival,’ placed second in the poetry category. Many thanks to Anne Gleeson for judging the entries and the Goldfields Libraries for organising the competition.
My poem is about arriving in the Torres Strait (Zenadth Kes) and also mentions Waiben, the local name for Thursday Island. Waiben literally translates to ‘no water,’ because there is no natural water source on the island. The theme of the Mulga Bill Writing Award was ‘Mystical Waters.’ While there is no natural water source on Thursday Island, it is surrounded by beautiful oceans and reefs, which are particularly beautiful when seen from above. The theme prompted me to write about flying into Waiben, the captivating ocean that surrounds it, as well as the people I have now been honoured to make connections with since moving here two years ago.
The aim of my poem is to highlight the difference between viewing a place from far away and becoming a part of it. It also addresses the change that happens within us when we go from being a spectator, scientist or observer to someone who experiences a place and its people, not just as a tourist, but through daily life, through touch and through immersion.
Zenadth Kes Arrival
By Lynelle Kendall
The plane is small enough its vibrations
Jangle through my nerves.
Air pressures quiver and buffet,
Propellers throb. Ailerons lift.
Like a scientist I gaze through the fishbowl eyepiece.
Glass misting. Crowded constructions shrink and microbe cars skim
On a plate of glass. Dotted peaceful gums, a birds-eye biome.
Ripped from its platform; the grounded, bush-lined world replaced by
aqua opalescent. Reefs like bioluminescence
shimmer below the surface. This bright, new world
bejewelled with islands. Ocean atremble.
Touch down. Close enough to sense
Stretched skin of drums throbbing.
Hands of elders crossed with currents of age.
Hold the rhythms, the swell. Lift my hands in theirs.
Eyes hold the depths of these mystical waters,
Quiver and swirl with knowledge. With knowing.
I the fishbowl. They the sea.
The wind whips round the compass. Waiben sinks under my skin.
A place small enough its frequencies
Reverberate through my heart.
You can read the judges comments and the other award winning entries for the Mulga Bill Writing Award 2024 here.
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