Purau

by

John Riminton

Conceived in volcanic violence

I was born of fire and water,

a softer valley between basalt cliffs

now I am loved in times of tranquil peace.

Lichens came first, softening my just-cooled rocks.

Forerunners of the miracle wind-born soil

accepting the travelled seeds of plants

to mantle me and make a home for birds.

I watched the first canoes exploring bays

taking fresh water from my sparkling streams.

Fish flax and birds - the means for human life

to settle, rest and weave away the days.

Violence again, this time of men.

Wars, raids on land, slaughter of whales at sea.

More human changes - roads homes and farms

seeking my peace and strong protecting arms.

What lies ahead?

A flooded shore? Homes on my slopes?

10,000 years from now my cliffs will still be here.

Who will be here to share?