Mataariki

By Michael Moore

If it weren’t for the stars
the night sky might finally be brave enough to snuff out the moon and lay down with the earth
we would plunge into an embrace of darkness
light would wither like hope in a prison of war
fade like a ridiculed idea
dilute like yellow paint brush tips under running water
Van Gogh’s starry night a canvas without wonder
black strokes dead of inspiration, swirling like spiritless pirouettes perfectly executed, yet lifeless
without the stars, we are but children searching empty window frame contents before we sleep
prayers and dreams sent into the cosmos surrendered to suspend unanswered
and still, even when man evolves to light up the night sky with invention
still our reach is restricted by our comprehension
the stars, their beauty, have always let us believe beyond
they relinquish our grasp and exceed the fathomable
as if to look through them was to climb an upward manhole in to an infinite bliss
we navigate constellations to find this
we navigate words and history to redefine myth as unquestionable legend
to enjoy the sun without ropes
to fashion star shaped hopes that poke through the canopy
and allow ambition to elope with fruition
Mataariki is upon us
and we again marvel as myth become animate, adamant that science can be defied tonight as these hand made kites travel higher than any rocket or satellite ever has
tonight we risk the impossible
like a son splashing his tears on the other side of doors in closed rooms that argue, and argue and argue
like twinkling beacons of hope
tonight we celebrate and inhabit the space between eternal lover like a new born clutched between it’s parents
Papatuanuku Earth Mother
Ranginui Sky Father
tonight, let us karakia into the mouth of Tawhirimatea so that he might breathe our gratitude into the wind
enriching our connection
Tonight may we be still life’s of introspection
strong like the branches of Tāne Mahuta
whose trunk stretches into the heavens bearing the weight of Godly heartache for us,
tonight, children’s dreams will pour out of the galaxy carried like hemoglobin on a silver lining to the hearts of those of us who forget
that the world isn’t black yet
colour races like shooting stars collecting window sill imagination for the ignorant and complacent
races like the unsettled minds that have spent too long stargazing
they’ve over looked that the heart
yes the heart
will always supersede the stars for inspiration
for there you will find the brightest of all earthly creation
there is that familiar warming sensation of oneness
there, cradled inside the fabric of space and time
just like the stars
we shine.

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