Tag: NZPoetry

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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…?