Our cloud is lower.
This long free land
Still we are
Held in hand
: : : : :
We’re proud of how our
Ties to this land
Strengthen our stand.
Still we are
Still we stand.
: : : : :
I hear about these ocean planets
Where water may be kilometres deep
Where don’t exist the coastlines of continents
No shoreline at all, no waves gently lapping on beaches.
No shirr and tumble on soft sand
No suck and tidal tug of broken shells
No constant fingering at the edges of estuary
Just the sphere of shimmering and surging and still sea.
I hear about the primordial forest
Where the air is unbroken by birdsong
No sudden liquid eruption or casual chirruping
Where the movement is only of beetles and dragonflies.
The flit and rustle and stir of wing
Humming and droning and murmuring
The swarm and coruscation of chitinous flight
But no cool cadence of evening song by a bird on a limb.
I hear of some meditations within
Attention drops below covering clouds
In the rare atmosphere the silent mind dwells
And extends all around until circumnavigation complete.
I hear from some forest far below
The walk and stirring of the Lord of life
When by a pool ripples up the one clear note
On resplendent wings I now fly to draw near the source.
If half a sphere sat on a square
Such that the circle was intersected
Tangentially where it touched
The midpoints of the four sides
And centred then at cardinal points
Of East and North West and South
So that it formed the upper story
Of a constructed cross of tall hallways
Placed upon platforms of many steps
That led to avenues lined with trees
Surrounded by grounds filled with birds
That flew from forests all around
Laced with roads that winding ran
Along the sides of valleys dividing
Rocky promontories facing plains
Reaching out toward the horizon
Then we might wander to that place
And place our feet upon those steps
Pass through hallways rich with arches
Until we came to that central space
And looking up into that dome
Recognise our sacred home
The heart’s interior in blue of mind
The golden dome in the sky a sign
Echoes of angels in the songs of birds
Mosaic paths to gardened earth
Pillars of virtues guiding the living
Fountains of nourishing waters giving
Peace to the air of dappled sunlight
Leafy shade at edges where we might
Circle the circumference with songs that rhyme
Weave body and soul and words and time
The land with stand of kauri, crown of copper leaves
(That rests on brow of Parau headland), weaves
From understory and undergrowth, a cloak
Of green that drapes on shoulders, gentle slopes
(The cloth of rimu, kahikatea, miro, and ponga grows,
Harakeke flax and grasses fall like fringe below,
Nearly touching where rocky toes reach into the sea,
Mighty Manukau’s tidal waters keep soles of the feet clean).
And in the soft cloak’s embrace is warmed the heart – those
Drawn to take a part in (what the future only knows
Will be achieved) – the path of Wellspring Parau Retreat.