The Gift of Mamaku

THE LOST MOKOPUNA

In the mist from the sea, He stands on the clifftop.
A grandfather, whispering and calling to the lost Mokopuna.
His skin Phosphorescent - as he sings to stars,
And Communes with the albatross.
He sings to the trees and blesses them
Now crimson adored - spilling.
And the sea is wild - it roars and foams and swells
Gnawing at rocks and roots.
But these hold fast - they have the power.
From long ago - to now.

Today - mist has gone and sky is clear,
Blue as the quiet sea.
Sunlight glints on tiny wavelets
And heats the land.