To commemorate Anzac Day, this week’s cover story has a special focus on Australia’s Indigenous service men and women, such as Lance Corporal Kathleen (Kath) Walker (Oodgeroo Noonuccal) who served in WWII. Noonuccal went on to become a revered Indigenous poet, activist and public speaker. In her 1960s poem, A Song of Hope, she writes with optimism:

Look up, my people,

The dawn is breaking,

The world is waking

To a new bright day,

When none defame us,

No restriction tame us,

Nor colour shame us,

Nor sneer dismay.

Now brood no more

On the years behind you,

The hope assigned you

Shall the past replace,

When a juster justice

Grown wise and stronger

Points the bone no longer

At a darker race.

So long we waited

Bound and frustrated,

Till hate be hated

And caste deposed;

Now light shall guide us,

No goal denied us,

And all doors open

That long were closed.

See plain the promise,

Dark freedom-lover!

Night’s nearly over,

And though long the climb,

New rights will greet us,

New mateship meet us,

And joy complete us

In our new Dream Time.

To our fathers’ fathers

The pain, the sorrow;

To our children’s children

The glad tomorrow.

This poem has been beautifully set to music by renowned Australian musician, Katie Noonan, who performed a spine-tingling version of the song, ‘The Glad Tomorrow’, at the National Folk Festival welcome concert on Good Friday. (Noonan is also artistic director of the festival.) You can find an exquisite version of Noonan performing the song with the Australian String Quartet on YouTube.

While we’ve made some progress on the long climb, there’s no doubt there is still a way to go; may all Australians continue to walk, talk, and listen together on the path of reconciliation.

Reasons to be grateful this past week include past and present Anzacs, the depth and diversity of the multigenerational talent pool at the National Folk Festival, a full moon dipping below a pink haze above the blue Brindabellas in the west as dawn’s golden light breaks on the eastern horizon, and that crack as you bite into hollow Easter chocolate.

Take care, Julie