 Electricity is a newcomer
To the foothills of the Ureweras
The 20th century took its time
Bulldozer rudeness leaves its scars.
River splits the ranges
Two and a half million acres
For a backyard
Kuramaere
Deep calls to deep
the
carver... musician... tohunga
explains the old ways
Guitar wailing blue notes
Like banshees in the night
Flowing images cut into wood
Stories to flame the imagination
Proud warrior/settlers
No longer Tangata Kuare -
the ignorant race.
A cautious people
Weave a protective hedge
Taking care of tribal business
44 meeting houses being restored.
The Tuhoe - regaining composure
In this former haunt
Of cannibals and self-made prophets.
Old tales retold in new carvings,
Remembering Rua and the crippled frame
Of the old lady who sowed alone in spring.
 When shaken faces retreat
From the fog of the city
The ancestral homeland
Welcomes wayward children
Back into her misty hills.
Te Kooti said
The worship of the one God
Will be declared abroad
From this ancient tribal land;
Where the spirit waits
To move once more
With power upon these waters.
-16-1-86 (revision 2002) |
Main Garage door