MATARIKI = the Southern New Year
It falls around the winter solstice, the 7 sisters arise at dawn. The ground is too cold for much planting work, and the harvests are all in. It is time for a holiday, feast time, for remembering those past, and hoping and planning for the future. A time for mid-winter Christmas celebrations and solstice swims, for kite flying, for hunkering down and keeping warm. A time of peace….
MATARIKI MOMENT
Green glowing growing ground
with splatches of warm shadow moving
And still manuka trunks stating their life
crowned with living hats of round leaf clumps
held up by finger arms
delineated by dark and light
dancing gracefully
brushed by the bristles of burring breeze
keeping the coiffure curving its way
A smell of almost nothing – fresh!
A screech of pukeko – quecks!
A squarble of discussing geese
guessing on the intentions of
people passing by
Oh, the tui tune of love and question
rings right across the valley!
And the various tweets and twistles of
the various other songsters – fantail,
white eye, thrush and blackbird
and a swift swoops in front of me
catching the sun on dark blue-green wings
I never knew they were iridescent!
Far fingers of pine present themselves
as an offering for the use of man
Their shape a clear green fire flame
And silhouettes that change direction with age
up and out!
On me the sun feels warm
a treat on this winter day
and there’s all kinds of clouds around
Pretty lace cloth washed up high
A little fish-skin behind me flaking scales
Land clouds like lissome layer cake
lie above the usual lumps
And an amazing sheet of dark silk
sneaking slowly up from the cold south
In front the ground falls down
tangled with sprouting lupin sticks
and with the last coloured leaves
of blackberry vines
and stalks of gold-white grass heads
A few dotted dandelions describe
yellow fountain-heads for a few
nectar seeking bees
And the constant crickets are
sending signals of hope heavenwards!
PARADOXICAL SOLSTICE June 19.10
Nothing like nature to smooth the
wrinkles of my mind
ease the tensions of my soul
No man to meddle muddle mix
and tricks and sticks and twist coils
of trouble and trials
So I head to the near green place
a space for horses quietly grazing
trees growing and birds going
about their business
BUT!! Not today!
Trails set by strings
and dotted dribbles of dudes
walking and running
and the drone and whistle and bang
of race delineations
– it’s a major cross country!
BUT!!
It’s still beautiful sitting sunning soaking
And there’s still birds and crickets and
the wind waving the wands of weed stalks
And if I am quiet in all this active interest,
I am in peace
And at least the peoples are doing
something that people naturally do!
It’s exciting to see them run!
And now the shouts!
But I hate the orders! Grr!
Interesting attitudes of those who are ahead
‘I have a job to do here’
and those that are behind
‘I’m just doing this thing – no thought
of my getting anywhere!’
And goodness me! – a few drifters off in the distance
to the finish line – is all that’s left!
And that voice droning – a nice enough voice
– it’s the machine that mushes it into
an annoying sound! Even it becomes mute
“A good spot” someone comments to me, high on the hill
“I came out for the peace!” –joking
And she said ‘sorry’ as if all of them have less rights
than me to be here! Silly conversation!
And the wind and the birds and the crickets are all calling
and commenting on their daily business…
As time ever was, so shall it be again!