Karitane
I give thanks to Te Wera
On the ancient slopes
Of Huriawa
I bow my head
Grateful
For the magic
Healing place
As I chant the names of God
On the green wooden seat
I bow again to the ancestors
Feel them gathering
To listen
And commune
“This is your Turangawaewae,”
I hear them whisper as the clouds part.
“This is your place to stand.”
Deep within the vibrating silence
Is my relief and gratitude
“We sent the piwakawaka to welcome you,”
They whisper again
As they turn
And walk slowly
Back up their sacred hill.
Songs of the Stones
Doors to the past
Tattooed hands and yearning
Determination
To find a place
In this world
Dusty green and red mosaic tiles
And minarets rising
Ancient wooden doors
With rusty metallic handles
Promises of a past,
Darker and slower
Feet clad in sandals
Hot dusty sand and footsteps
Unhurried
Home
And the songs of the stones
Deep, deep into the bones
Centuries of rhythm
Prescribed
Freedom in a cage
Freedom only through the past
Darkly
Women make homes
Fill them with hard duty
Even love
Mapped out
Dusty door
Flashes of tattooed hands
Women helping women
Keeping knowledge silently
Behind closed doors
Making the most
No translation
Without letters
Maps on tattooed hands
Will show the way
The artist creates a fountain
Outside the door
Bit by bit he transforms
The dirt
Into constellations
One tiny colour at a time
He shows the way
And the water runs
Finds the path of least resistance
And she follows
Through the old door
To a place of blinding new light
And heavy freedoms.
TāneMahuta
Separator of heaven and earth,
give us courage
Give us the strength to separate ourselves
From that which blocks our light
Bestow upon us your faith
Your knowledge
That the beloved will always embrace the one she loves
No matter how much space is between them
Help us to find within our separation
The key to our own divinity
Let us woo ourselves
And when we have witnessed the goodness we carry
Only then
Allow us to embrace the other
In wholeness
Revelling in the light
That is now able to shine
Between us.
