Ko au te awa, ko te awa ko au (I Am the River, the River Is Me)
by Emily Donaldson
Winding, roaring, I wind sinuously around craggy cliffs, languorously stretching out,
Stagnant, still, crashing clamorously over stone, fluidly sweeping away the earth,
Transparent, pristine, I dribble through dams, sullied by effluent, barren by drought,
I am the river, the river is me.
Lapping, lulling, I caress the sand with my tide, nudged by the moon,
Ebbing, flowing, I pool amid boulders, flooding hearts in my wake,
ominous, imminent, I invade inland, rising, rising, ululating my ire,
I am the ocean, the ocean is me.
Tall, resolute, I kiss the clouds with my jagged peaks, splaying the sun’s rays,
majestic, enigmatic, I harbor treasure in my bosom, quaking, crumbling, now leveled,
foreboding, aspirational, I puncture the sky, humbling the many, elevating the few,
I am the mountain, the mountain is me.
Lush, serene, I clothe Papatuanuku, guarding her fragility, germinating from her womb,
diverse, verdant, I climb towards Ranginui, embracing the sky, rooted, stabilized by the earth,
prolific, engulfing, I shelter critters and creeks, sumptuously suppressive, indiscriminately razed,
I am the forest, the forest is me.
Ambitious, naïve, I dove into lakes, waded in rivers, wallowed in my awakenings,
dogged, cynical, I idolized the mountains, reveled in communion with the damp, fecund forest,
impassioned, attentive, I am grounded in the past, moving intentionally in the present, to nurture a
salubrious future,
I was me, I am me, I will be me.
22
A Hinge River Roared Behind Me
by Steven Boyd