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                     Pounamu Heart

                     In Pouto we can
                     loose ourselves
                     and become friends
                     we can feel like
                     we have come home
                     relax with our Ancestors
                     and listen to what is foretold
                     as we learn to grow together
                     and get our feelings told
                     Only to look upon you
                     my children, with my
                     loving eyes
                     my tears will wash
                     the stones from our lives
                     keep the feelings flowing
                     smoothing the pounamu heart
                     life's riverbed

                     The Great Pa

                     My eyes trace ever back
                     to the interior; deviate to
                     shell strata; where the road
                     cuts through hillock.
                     this landscape has such proportion-
                     your shell beds reveal your presence
                     not too long ago -

                     Buried with the fires ashes
                     Tipua - your appetitie for cockels & pipis;
                     claim to the whenua, evident -snapper jawbone, fish scale, neck bone,
                     Tipua - your mouths ate of these, your fingers made greasy - Sacred
                     In time, the coast & shelf overcame -
                     Now the Great Pa
                     Vessels new verse, to the feral winds cry.

                     Tipua - your Mokopuna play closest to the edge
                     to soothe the pain of subsidence - Aue!
                     Calling my son - warning him of my fears.
                     Alas, It is I who does not know
                     the safety of you - Tipua.
                     Protectecting the Tangata Whenua.

                     At the foot of the great Pa
                     Is Kath & Steve's Whare - the old social club -
                     A white horse grazes, stands as the whenua
                     retraces movements under the feet of ancestors

                     Atop the great Pa
                     we are between the darkness & the light
                     we look in to the waha of the kaipara
                     back to the Urupa - tide and time overcomes man - rain & time.


                     I build our Whare
                     at night.
                     Each corner post
                     I set with riverstone
                     and clay.
                     Each strong Kanuka Post
                     I beset with Kaha; with Mana

                     Manuka struts I bind
                     with Harakeke
                     I entwine
                     Taonga Dreams
                     I strap the binding
                     with vigour; lust for
                     Te Po.

                     Nikau Fronds
                     Platted; intertwined
                     conceal us; beneath us
                     Fine mats woven
                     with your long
                     gentle fingers,
                     on these we make love; we sleep

                     beneath the flaxen ceiling
                     secure in the storm
                     I wrap you in Kanuka post
                     Honey, blood and flame.
                     Yes I yearn for the
                     fires of the whare.
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Doug Poole