94. At the feet of St Peter

In a grand, giant hall of masonry stone
The Archangel Michael is talking to Peter
He paces the floor, insistent on action
pleading his case, asking to do more

On a floor of grey stone do I sit and I watch
as the feet of Shivon move hastily past me
He's as tall as 12 men, a gargantuan being
approaching a wall of hieroglyph tiles

He changes the tiles in a subsequent order
which opens a door to another dimension
and steps through the door and out to Olympus
while placating Michael with a frown and a smile

And from up on high I look down at our Saints
as Peter himself now climbs some great stairs
I turn back to see where Michael has gone
but the sweet scent of this World, is one he can't bare

93. Fairy Lights

In the dim of my bedroom with the curtains now pulled
from the shine of the moon and the bustle of night
little lights twinke, fizzle and flash
the brightest of blue or sparkles of white

The fairies are here and with fun and with flair
they reveal themselves to me to show they are near
They're patupaiarehe who once long ago
lived amongst people and helped them to grow

They showed them the future as well as time travel
by using site lines and ornately carved pou
They cured the ill, they punished the guilty
but reveled and shone at the drop of a song

And now do they come, albeit to me
to my own home in the heart of suburbia
and begin to surround me as they once did
to all of my ancestors with joy and with glee

92. The Spirit of the Birds

Out on the lawn in front of the House
Korotangi and I are having a korero
He asks after me, and how I have been
without using words - just imagery

Stately and regal and perched on the grass
as big as a man but as wide as a horse
his giant, great head turns slowly towards me
with unblinking eyes looking into my soul

On an ordinary day in the middle of Wellington
miles away from my very own homelands
I now get inducted to take care of the birds
like my ancestors did many lifetimes ago...

91.Cord of White Light

Looking out of the window and to the horizon
I see a black ribbon move through the air
it begins to descend down onto my house
an essence of darkness, of sadness, of terror

Big screaming eyes and a gaping dark mouth
surrounded by smoke which pulses and plumes
now stands beside me shrieking and howling
and filling my heart with malevolent fear

But I take from my waist a cord of white light
and now bind the two of us tightly together
and no-longer see my kitchen or dining room
but a corridor filled with doorways of portals

For whatever reason this being was formed
it is not up to me to banish or kill it
So I take this great Sadness to its next destination
til we come to a door it looks longingly at

With taiaha in hand a warrior steps forward
so nothing else enters into our domain
and a wahine toa begins to karanga
as we step forward to open the door

This is the doorway to Hades itself
to the very own Whare of the Atua Whiro
where slowly but surely I take down the cord
and let this of our brethren, go to his own World....

90. My mother's couch

Sitting apon my mother's own couch
a Pleiadian woman with golden hair sits
Sensuously she eyes me a smile
drawing me in to be by her side

But standing beside her is a Pleiadian man
barring the way with one of his hands
He is the Protector of his Angelic Charge
guarding a Goddess, guarding his mate

Long, thin, straight hair of platinum blond
fall past his temples and down to his shoulders
and ever so slightly between her and I
he turns and conveys a message from her

A flood of emotion and question marks come
of journeys untravelled and actions not done
and with a serious tone, he asks one single thing
"Why has your destiny not yet begun?"

I wake in the morning and begin to reflect
on what are the barriers holding me back
I guess its the pull and the tug thats so real
of going alone despite what others feel

89. Ojibwe ladies with embroidery stories

In a cramped little kitchen
filled with laughter and smiles
I sit at the table with 2 nokomisinonnig

Their long, straight, grey hair
pulled loosely behind them
while wrinkled round faces
look sweetly down at me

One of them begins by drawing the eye
to a beautifully quilted, coat that she wears
running her fingers along stitched designs
of silver grey stars over universe seams

The other now shows me the coat that she wears
soft to the touch with an apricot hue
and shaking the coat and making it billow
I see a new story begin to unfold

Some people write books while others may carve
some people sing, while others might dance
but these little old ladies who sit in their kitchen
show me the way, they share their own stories


* Nokomisinonnig (Grandmothers)

88. Fountain of Light

Ripples of cascading, flowing white light
shimmer and sparkle across the carpeted floor
as we sit and are welcomed into the whare
Te Puna i te Ao Marama

The Fountain of Light is the name of this House
apon the lands itself which bear the same name
and dutifully named by the ancestor Kupe
in a beautiful area called the Hokianga

But as the speeches continue and song fills the rafters
and Dame Whina's picture hangs on the wall
the floor of the House is shimmering at me
as though the afternoon Sun sits alongside me

Curiously I look all about me
hoping that others can see what's before me
but alas - they do not, and continue to listen
as the tangata whenua continue to talk

With my bare feet and whilst no-one is noticing
I wiggle - really slowly, some of my toes
and see one pass through this mysterious layer
like a whale or dolphin through the crest of a wave

I am conscious of others, now wary of me
where my wee antics are attracting attention
so slowly, I smile and offer my gratitude
to these beautiful waters who have made themselves known

I reach down, and gently - I now stroke the floor
as though I'm admiring the shag of the carpet
and feel my own heart fill with peace and with beauty
as I gain my composure, and listen to speeches