Beneath the sunburnt fields so vast,
Where echoes of the Dreamtime cast,
A hidden network, deep and grand,
Threads unseen beneath the land.
The locators come, with practiced eye,
To hear the whispers where secrets lie.
Signals pulse and scanners hum,
Unveiling paths where power runs.
Through bushland wild and coastal sand,
Through the outback’s reach and farmland’s span,
Gas and water, wires of light,
They map the veins both day and night.
With flags they mark the earth’s thin skin,
Protecting life that moves within.
For every pipe and every wire,
They guard the spark, they quell the fire.
Australia’s heart beats underground,
Where lifelines cross without a sound.
The seekers walk this fragile thread,
So none may harm what lies ahead.
Here’s to the locators, skilled and true,
Who guide the shovels safely through.
In their quiet work, a nation’s trust,
To shield the unseen from careless thrust.