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Pale lilac blooms
stolen In Memorium…
on a hillside
steeply launched
jet out memories like medicine
dropped out sound wave
on white cracked concrete
lazily warmed by evening sun
but no kind words hang in the air
since you passed
I never knew your name
looking around – it’s pretty much the same
you are not alone
the wind and the rain
have wiped remembrance here
but one trace remains
103 years after dust was cast
rotten pipe clay task
wiped from holy hands
one very particular scent still hangs
French Lavender
what began as a twig
a premonition piercing mounded clay
your lover day after day
returning
yearning
learning the way the ship soared
out through the mouth
like birth
and I too turning
seaward
across Granny’s bay towards Āwhitu
imagining you eager
to fight the Boers
I catch Maunga Māngere watching jealously
in the distance
lazily spitting clouds
like melon pips
as if to say e hoa, it’s just a scraggy old bush there
kaore ngā ahi kā kei kōna
anake ngā tauiwi e okioki ana
ae, koinā te kōrero he maunga ariki
but its roots were watered
with the tears of loved ones
it’s true that on this crowded hill
they too rest somewhere else
but in off shore breezes
this old lavender
knows no boundaries on this headland
crush its healing oil in palm
and you too will see memory
and loved ones
resurrected
upon the wind
This short poem concerns a visit 13 February 2019 to the urupā at the top of Hillsborough. It is steeply situated with spectacular harbourside views across Manukau south to Maunga Māngere and west seawards out to Awhitu peninsula- south Manukau Heads. One of the nineeteenth century graves featured a remarkably hardy bush of lavender. I photographed a few of its many blooms. This extremely weathered and hardy shrub had been left to fend for itself but in the late afternoon sun a gentle breeze was picking up and the air around that grave was filled with the delicate scent of French Lavender. It occurred to me that a number of the shrubs and trees deliberately planted by loved ones involved broader narratives of connection. Was there something particular about the chosen plant? What might it have signified, what emotion is conveyed? Who were these people who planted these shrubs and how often did they return to pay their respects and perhaps just to talk…?
