Language of Love

                                                    Language of Love  January 2017


There's a war of words around me
Keeping me safe, holding me close
Filtering constant babble
From foreign fields outside
This wellspring of words
Surged late in my life
Urgent germination from deep furrows in my mind
ploughed and weathered gleanings
For my winter years.

Weeping pools of pounamu
Melt heart of dark green stone
I hear a karakia calling me
It now haunts my days
Soon I will answer the summons
At evening ebbtide
Fly North along shores of sculpted lace
Caress green hills and valleys
With my whispered words of love
For the land where I was born
And return in peaceful embrace
To speak with a new voice.

 
 

NB - the above is a direct copy of the original text, with spelling and punctuation as written.

Photographs by Patricia.


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