Follow the green into the dark …
What lies beyond?
Memory and shadow,
mystery and sleep,
the space to rest and reflect.
And then find your way,
leaf by leaf by leaf,
back into the light.
©clairegriffin2017
nature
March
indulge in the sunlight, accept nature’s gifts
grateful for the positive glorious energy
the earth shares with us
We’ve officially had the worst summer in years – with many places experiencing lower than usual temperatures, rain, and lots of wind. It improved a little during February and has certainly been better the last couple of weeks, so I’m looking forward to more sunshine. Today is the start of Autumn, and we often have some glorious days during this time of year.
Interesting that I chose this photo and wrote this verse back in December, without really thinking about the seasons. But this is exactly what I need now.
©clairegriffin2017
green
your footsteps play
on the skin of the land
as on a drum
I feel the ground vibrate
you are coming
you will lie beneath me
and I will drop
sun-ripened fruits
into your mouth
you will stand still in my arms
as the wind blows around us
I move so slowly
this is how we dance
you will hear me singing to you
while you sleep
I speak so quietly
you can only hear me in your dreams
I am strong and grounded
the one you seek
my roots run deep
my tribe is many
you are a bright brief burst of life
and I am older than your generations
you are constantly astounded
my hair is green
and yet you love me
©clairegriffin2017
tears in the sky
it has rained for three days
rain and fog and mist for two
and yesterday – more rain in a day
than usual for the whole month
the land itself was grieving
for the ones who’ve left us
for voices silenced
for songs unsung
Te Ihorangi and Hinewai
are the gods of rain and mist
male and female together
holding us in their embrace
as mist lay heavy on the hills
cloaks woven of all the tears
we’ve shed these last few days
these last few months
crying with us
until we are ready
to stand and turn our faces
to the sun
©Claire Griffin 2016
In this land, rain is often interpreted as a sign of grief, as if the land itself is crying in recognition of the passing of a great leader. This is an extract from the lament, ‘E pā tō hau’, for Te Wano of the Ngāti Apakura tribe:
E ua e te ua e taheke
Koe i runga rā
Ko au ki raro nei riringi ai
Te ua i aku kamo.
http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/tawhirimatea-the-weather/page-4
Citation: Basil Keane, ‘Tāwhirimātea – the weather – Rain’,
Te Ara – the Encyclopedia of New Zealand,
http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/tawhirimatea-the-weather/page-4
(accessed 13 November 2016)
Full story by Basil Keane, published 12 Jun 2006
broken glass
today was a stormy day of the heart
needing to move, to put distance
between my heart, my soul
and my daily life
standing on the rocky edge
looking out to sea
watching the waves coming
inexorably into shore
rock pools beckoned and I walked further out
looking through still water with a surface like glass
starfish and sea lettuce, neptune’s necklace and limpets
patiently waiting for the incoming tide
but the calm waters didn’t match
the turmoil I felt
the waves of emotions
needed something stronger
when sudden unexpected rain
struck intensely from behind
choosing not to run, I was drenched in seconds
standing still, with one hand holding back my hair
I stood and watched
as heavy rain broke the surface
all life beneath now an impressionist’s dream
then, just as quickly, rain stops and ripples spread and settle
when the liquid glass shattered
I drank the fragments
they cut through anger to release the tension
touching the wet rocks, I am centred in this turbulent landscape
I am the rain, the rocks, the fragile sea-life
I am the squally wind
heart-settled, soul-free
I watch the sea birds
ride the updrafts
and wish I had wings
©Claire Griffin 2016
Reading Tyler’s poem “Drop by drop” and discovering the lines
“All my worries fall away, I am a storm cloud”.
They seemed to express perfectly how I was feeling today.
Entering the landscape always helps me recover equilibrium,
but it took becoming part of the storm for it to work today.
The land reflected my feelings back to me,
and then I was able to release them.
Thanks for the inspiration Tyler 🙂
https://tylerpedersen02.wordpress.com/2015/12/13/drop-by-drop/
beach memories
I recognise the mindful way
each foot is placed
stepping over
walking around
careful as she walks
the sandhill path to the beach
I feel the rhythm
the slow quiet pressure and release
as each foot falls and lifts
hands brush through
grasses that grow tall
along the edge of the path
marram grass and lupin
toetoe* and spinifex
each stroke a caress
a hand in a lover’s hair
I reach forward into her touch
and bend away
eager and shy
trusting
the rhythm changes
feet run over sand
land heavily after jumping
over driftwood and seaweed flotsam
until the sea is reached
then all weight is lifted
as she floats and drifts
and still, there is a sense of her
as waves bring her back in
to scuff feet against the sand
and I wash over, tasting her skin
when she leaves
my salt kisses
drying in her hair
wind and sea
smooth her footsteps from the beach
and I hold the shape of her
the weight of her
memory embedded
encoded in roots
lying deep below the surface
waiting
© Claire Griffin 2016
*toetoe = tussock grass (pronounce as “toi toi”)
morning secret
two kereru swoop in
and land on the power lines
thwuump, thwuump of heavy wings
beating down on the cool morning air
a dance begins
or maybe avoidance
it depends on your point of view
one steps left
as if the other is too close
but the movement is mirrored
one turns around
and this too is copied
shuffle, shuffle, step, step, turn
shuffle, shuffle, step, step, turn
until a comfortable distance
between them is achieved
and they sit side by side
buffeted by the wind
a minute passes
and the follower takes the lead
standing tall, chest out, bouncing
up and down on the wire
then starts stepping left
towards the first
who decides enough is enough
and flies off into the shelter of a tree
only to be followed
one more time
behind the leaves
their movements remain
a morning secret
© Claire Griffin 2016
darkness
there is a darkness gathering
beyond the hills
below the trees
behind my eyes
I hear the shadows calling
the night birds
the dark stars
all the oldest elementals
stand together
this is our last chance
to bend
or else be broken
© Claire Griffin 2016
This was written a month ago, late at night, just before sleep. I’d been feeling low – and at first I thought the “darkness” referred to that. But as I wrote, I realised I was thinking of the environment, and imagining/sensing a mythic awakening of primal forces standing just out of sight.
I think there’s a connection to “winter wind – green gods” written a month earlier. Perhaps that imagining had naively called something forth, and they did not step back but were still standing with me in my subconscious.
That low, dark feeling stayed with me until the last couple of weeks. I’ve been reading about archetypes, hero journeys and the “shadow” (Jung) – and I’m wondering if the darkness I felt can be explained by some of this. I’ll keep reading. And while I’ve called this poem “darkness” – and I was sensing a warning while I wrote it, as if we were all being put on notice – somehow now I feel hopeful. (It was just after writing all this that I discovered a movement called “TreeSisters” and their initiative to plant a million trees https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcDKjS5gIbM – I think this helped.)
Anyway, this dark mood has lifted now – that might be due to spring’s arrival, blossoms and light and birds circling the house. 6 October 2016)
winter dreaming
it’s the tail-end of winter
and I’ve been feeling low
I have days when
I can’t imagine
how I will rise again
but I stand here today
overlooking the sea
on the verandah of a house in another town
in the distance I hear birds call, voices,
the low hum of the waves
little flurries of wind
blue sky to infinity
the sun pouring its heart out over the land
and I can feel, if I stayed here
my spirits would lift
I can see myself living here
in a two-storied house
overlooking the sea
with a room for books and writing
and quietly watching the world
I’d take the dogs I don’t have yet
for walks on the beach
bake bread and knit and talk
until the ‘real’ world changes
and catches up with my imaginings
part of me will go on living in this dream
© Claire Griffin 2016
winter wind – green gods
winter wind
blows in from the north
bringing mist and cloud
to lie low over the hills
and as the wind shifts
green gods are revealed
the thin mist is swept apart and
mythic trees step forward
out of ancient times
to stand for a moment
in the present
before the wind turns
and they walk back into the past
© Claire Griffin 2016
invisible necessity 