.

Awake from sleep the first birds are singing.

Light and free. Beautiful. I listen.

Another sound.

Once on an island your listened. In the distance

the sound of surf. We have a photo.

Silence now.

At the beginning God said, Let there be light,

and there was light. God saw that the light was good.

He separated the light from the darkness.

He called the light day,

and the darkness night.

And there was evening,

and there was morning – the first day.

Evening first. And then the morning.

.

For Cathy. In memoriam.

.

Visiting our grandchildren I thought about my father.

He raised his hands. I touched them. Our last contact.

Flesh from flesh, bone from bone. What of us continues?

I saw my grandson’s name on a dish. My father, me, my son,

my grandchild. The same surname. But his hands are not here –

his bone, his flesh – no atoms of his nature exist.

A poem I wrote for my granddaughter when she was born:

A life appears

He determines the number of the stars

and calls them each by name

.

Silken linen purple are her vestment O Lord.

In the sun he has placed his tabernacle.

You have freed me, Lord, from the mouth of the lion.

Alleluia.

.

Medieval Latin fragment: ‘Bone now from my bones…’

blog.lib.utah.edu/medieval-latin-hymn-fragment-bone-now-from-my-bones/

.

A life appears

He determines the number of the stars

and calls them each by name

.

.

Light everywhere

Each thing beautiful

A dream

.

.

Lightly he carries

Overburdens

Christ

Holds

Is

Ethereal

.

For my grandson, Lochie.

.

Across from here, some streets away,

a grandchild I have never seen.

Last night born. Her mother sleeps.

It’s early afternoon. In a car I read,

my sleeping wife – awaiting…

Grey clouds – stillness: A welcome

to the world. A message – yes, come and

visit. We walk through streets, cross parks,

open the door – and there she is.

Mother and daughter. I take a photo.

A new world from the old. Father,

joyful, compliments her:

A days labour – and now this.

No name, she says, promising.

.

.

A river or the sea – intangible –

living near. The surface and the depth –

all changeable. Like our world – sorrow,

sadness, joy. The ones before us knew.

Your resting place is on the waves, not

the earth. The Avon River, Ōtākaro,

New Brighton Beach, Te Karoro Karoro.

Ōtākaro – a place to play, Te Karoro

Karoro – the meetings of seagulls.

No funeral, just a few words.

Be strong, do not fear, your God will come.

The lame will leap as a deer. The mute will shout.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams

in the desert. A highway – the Way of Holiness.

I am making everything new!

.

For Cathy

.

A view of snowcapped mountains. He often spoke of them. Their property was built on a hill –

through the windows they could be seen. Katsushika Hokusai at the end of his life published

Thirty Six Views of Mt. Fuji – and a printed book – One Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji. God has set

eternity in the human heart. Of this, Mt. Fuji was a symbol. The New Zealand Southern Alps,

seen on a winter day, are like a fairy tale. Some folklorists use the term, Märchen or “wonder

tale”. These are tales filled with the marvellous. God makes everything beautiful in its time.

.

For Graeme

.

One day we decided to go on a bush track

overlooking Middle Harbour. It was in December

Holiday time. The day was bright. We walked for a while

until we came to a place with a view.

Clare asked me to close my eyes. Then she kissed me.

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls,

all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

.

Celebrating forty years of marriage.

.

From above the water, clouds reflected,

going, coming, snowy Hindukush,

a girl, Jaghori River, yes, a mirror –

you want to learn secrets – relinquish dignity,

sea becomes, a spring. Ghazni province,

lush green valley, rivers flowing, rain,

a good land – a land with brooks, streams,

and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills,

a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees,

pomegranates, olive oil and honey,

a land where bread will not be scarce

and you will lack nothing. Do not forget

the Lord your God. Lover of God,

forgotten I, sea becomes, a spring.

.