THREE POEMS … by Nancy Bruce

UNFINISHED CANOE Shake the wild boughs in the aisles of Puketi, Curl the leaves in a writhing of pain, Echo the anger of Tane-mahuta For the son who has fallen in vain. The kauri is fallen, The karakia chanted, The long haul is over, The giant lies still. Hollow the great log! Ae! Hollow and shape it, The beloved of Tane To a mighty canoe! Cruel lies the scar on the breast of Puketi, Seared deep through the comforting green. The tracks of the long haul are healed and grown over, But the anger of Tane bites keen. The kauri is fallen, Alone and unfinished, The chips whiten slowly About the great bow. Where are the skilled hands To carve tall Tauihu, To fashion Rauawa To meet the strong tide? Fill the marae with the sound of your grieving, Let the earth meet the fall of your tears For the great one who lies in his long desolation To rot through the unheeding years. The kauri is fallen, The great canoe fashioned, Fashioned and earthbound To moulder away. He will never set forth As the great fleets once ventured, He will never taste salt On his tall eager prow. No full-bosomed wave shall leap surging beneath him, His sea bed the unyielding clay, No rhythm of paddles to sweep the green river. For the sad earth shall eat him away. The kauri is fallen, O weep, all my brothers! No outrigger sloping Against the swift tide. O, winds of Kaikohe, Sweep gently above him, Beloved of Tane Left lonely to die.