Tower
 
 
 

                               For a while,
I think, I never saw him save surrounded
by life-trusting children; on his shoulder borne
or scattered at his heels and scampering.
Birds fluttered round his head at times, or looked for insects,
while a tree
       bent to his silent colloquy.

He strode with gentle kindliness of strength
direct and clean, through forest or through marsh,
or paced the long slow sedges, as a heart that
listened always
               to the soul of rock and river
and the laughter rustling through the trees;

Sometimes he'ld lift his head to look
at me, part-grave, part-joyous, and part hungry
for my touch, wild like the forest and as cool.
I'ld know the listening peace of him,
and see the soft show of the whispered grass,
tip tall and stretching as it sought to catch
               the blessing of his ear.

So he was ever; Tane in the grove, or by the beach
or on the prickled hill; watcher and guardian,
       now fierce and now still,
filled with awareness and an easy stance he listened,
lovingly, to all the little creatures
       of the forest floor,
and taught our sons
       with head half bent, to catch a question
hidden in half word, or shyness of a thought;
his hand would soothe a sore place on a foot,
remove a prickle or a thorn, and stroke the place;
or smooth a bough or brow with comforting;
and all the while, the gentle pressure of his mind
       led on toward whatever stretch of knowing
               at the time was sought.

I loved to watch him always, catch the light
       upon a plane of shoulder, the unconscious grace
with which he rose or stood,
       to hear the timbre of his voice
singing the morning quiet of the buckled hills,
searching the surface of the glossy sea with evening breeze,
to call a brother to him or a friend,
or me, for some sure knowing to commune with him;
or sea bird, or a tawny morepork to his side, for company.
 

                        o

       I paused one day to watch him
as he taught the boys their Whakapapa in the sun
and dwelt upon the quiet surety of him I loved,
       his voice a murmur as it traced
               so lovingly, connections of the blood
and the small cell's history of these, our sons;
       and, as it sometimes is, the blood within me
rose with longing and a kind of half desire,
       darkened my eyes.
                       I thought
to touch the muscle of his neck,
               or bend my head to smell
the strong sweet maleness of him.

       I must have moved. I saw him lift his head
and glance at me, and smile a little knowingly,
       and with a gentle patting of the child beside him,
send them out,
       out to the forests and the glades,
       the rustled nestings of their favourite sites;
one to the rushes and another to the fat
               soft river by the plopping tide,
       and saw him look
full deep across the place to where I stood, and rise
       his face alight with tenderness to  greet me.

I walked towards him quietly,
               my flesh aware of all the love between us
and of all the time and years we had,
               my heart all wide with lavishness and pride;
heard my lips part, gentle with surprise, to ask
               the long and unregarded question,
who my father was, and whence I came,
               so long, so far, ago
                       out of the mists of time.
 

And just before his movement of surprise, I saw
       the flicker of his eyes toward the door post,
our history living in the forest gloom,
        and then  flash back at me, while hand half
       lifted, led the way

       so sight must follow, rest a while,
               upon the long loved
       message of the tree, that long before we met
               my true love looked for me
       that oh
       for long and long
       had Hine been,
       loved by her Tane,
Hine with Tane,
Hine and Tane,

        loving and knowing seeped
               into the silenced pulsing of my flesh
       so that I saw then, saw at last,
               that Hine came,
       Hine came
       Hine came
       from

               Hine from Tane came
 
 

heart beat in ear drums
               once,
                       and never seemed to beat again.

Wide open were my eyes, I saw his hand as aeon depths away
       reach out to comfort or forestall,
               fall helplessly away
and while my inner being cried an endless cry
       some outer silence of my flesh
                               held sway.

       I turned,
       I turned and walked
       out of the sunlight of our mutual soul,
               into the forest day.

                               Heard far behind me,
       voices. Voice of my children
       voice of flesh
       out of my mothering womb
       cry out

                       cry out
                                       at play, and
       "Mother, come and see" and
                       "Mother, have you come to stay?"

       and walked on past
                       the childish water
       dam,
       the gardens of their pride, and
       past their loving greeting
       past their tugging
                       call
               while my
                heart
                 held
                  hard
               its sob within a static vice
                               in crumpled lung.

                               o
 
 

Oh Tane, loveliest of Lords,
My Father,
Tane long beloved,
how you loved me
       as the lords of time and triumph
       love,
and loved me well.

       Tane, beloved,
       Father,
       what has your love done
       to me
       to me?

       I of my own flesh,
       my mother's self become..
 

I walked, tear blind and stumbled
not
       but ached
in inner limb for loss of him
       who had for so long been myself.
The agony of breathing while
       the sense of solid heart,
       my heart,
               a limb, though lost,
       still felt. Still sore

       back through the forest
where he bore me once, across the fallen leaves
       upon the forest floor
       in love and laughter
once,
       once more,
       back to the marriage knoll

and saw him as I had before,

       there,
       there before me,
       standing on the knoll,

his arms held out towards me and his
voice of love,
       husky with longing
       tenderly
beseech me to

       "remember our children,
       love,
       remember this",

       return
       return to him,
       return with him,
       return.

               Heard the love longing
               which embraced me still,
       felt heart crack aside,
               the bitter hardness from  my throat
       to groin
       my knees all aching

               with the loss of him.
 

I stood cold still to look at him, as it would seem
after an endless absence of my sight,
       and, wordless,
       shook my head, and heard his
       breath, caught as in agony
as one in agony,
       and longed
               his agony
       to take away,
               longed
                       not to be
                               born, 
       who loved him still.

I heard him as I turned away,
plead for his children
       to suffer not as I had, wanting him,

       that they for lack of sight of me, or him
or nurture's knowing
       or for kindness' kin
 

               I turned my head away
to silence him.
 

       I heard him next to me
       his hand had turned my
       head, so that I saw the
       loving of his eyes,
               and felt the male warmth of him
       in all his gentleness, so like a blow,
       and bowed my head, and stepped
       full back before I turned again,
       and tried to leave the grove,
and heard him cry out achingly

       "My love, oh Daughter of the Stars,
       oh earth born, maid.
       so smooth of skin, so joyous and so lithe,
       my soul's love, lovely, Oh my love!
               Return.
       oh thou art beautiful, my dream,
my joy,
       oh
               leave me
               leave me
               leave me not"
                       as I began my walk away

                       o

       So I became the daughter of the night,
               the soul of death's reluctant tears,
       the silence of the word
               long loved and looked for
       in the desolated dark,
               the long awaited flickering of a lash
       forever still, the breath untaken and the word
       not said,
bewildered silence searching through the darkly crowded mind,
               and long pain's ending.
 

Down by the river where we once had met
I walked in silence to the bend
and there stood silently, and looked away,
out upon an unmapped, goaless path;
       saw ocean wind and headland meet
in a wild and threefold union
       over a deserted arch.

       Then I looked back,
       and saw him standing still
       upon our marriage knoll,
       straight as a totara and as clean,
       mist swathed, and staring up,
       back arched to stare
into the cavern of the weeping sky,

and knew myself again alone,

daughter of stars and light, and earth and air,
       earthborne, and homeless
turning back to see my lord,
       lord of the lovely singing trees
       who also stood alone.
 
 

       cloaked in the grief of sky tears,
        like a mist of pain
               he stood upon the knoll.

       and I looked back
       and knew
       that Rangi comforted
               his so-beloved
                        son