Te mamae pai.

I tērā wiki,  ko te wiki o te reo, ā,  ko te kaupapa – arohatia te reo. I pirangi au ki te tuhia tētahi kōrero i roto i te reo, no reira…anei!  He poto tēnei, na te mea he paku noa iho tōku reo, engari ko taku wawata: mahia te reo.  Ko te whakautauki tino pai ki ahau, i tēnei wā: “Ahakoa he iti, he pounamu”

I tuhia  e ōku hoa mō te kaupapa: He aha te mea e whakamamaetia ana koe.  He aha te mea ātaahua e whakamīharo. Ko taku whakaaro  tuatahi – ko te ao tino ātaahua.  Ko ngā putiputi, ngā whetu, ngā wai, te rangi, me te rā.  He tino miharo ēnei mea.

Ko taku whakaaro tuarua – ko te marenatanga.  E aroha ana au kia kite i te kanohi o te tane, i te wā ka hikoi ōna wahine tae atu ki a ia.  E whiti ana te kanohi o te tane i roto i te aroha. 

Hei whakapi, ko taku whakaaro te reo Māori, arā ko te reo rangatira.  I tipu ake au i roto i te ao o te reo Pakeha.  I mohio au i ētahi kupu; whānau, kai, moana, kowhai.  Engari, kāore au i mārama i te nuinga o te reo.  I te tau 2009, ka timata au ki te ako.  Ahakoa e rua tekau mā tahi ōku tau, he pepi noa iho ahau, na te mea kāore anō au kia ako i te reo ō ōku tīpuna.  Ko tēnei te hurihanga o taku koiora. E ako tonu au.  Kua timata, ā, īnaianei me haere tonu ahau.  Me whaia te ao mārama, me piki ake ki te traumata.

I te wā e kōrero ana te reo, kua mahana tōku ngākau. Kua kī tōku ngākau. I roto i taku ngākau te mamae pai. No ōku tīpuna te reo tuku iho. Nā te reo e rarawhi ngā whakaaro Māori.

E kitea ana tōku whakapapa e au.  Ko te reo te mea tino nunui o tēnei haerenga.

Hei ngā rā i muri ake nei, ka pirangi au ki te tipu ake i roto i te reo Māori.

Kia mau koe ki ngā kupu o ōu tīpuna.  Tōku reo, tōku ohooho.

the princess in the tower, the dragon wrapped about it, the knight below.

I should probably explain that I have been co-opted (somewhat voluntarily,but also joyfully) into a blogging cohort known as The Blog Roll.  We blog on the same topic at the same time.  So far we've done:  Community, Contentment, Flirting.  And this, our current topic.

I think I kind of wrote a song.  Well, it's probably too long for a song, and actually, some of our members are a lot more song-writing experienced than me, and they may tell me it's not really a song, in which case, I don't know what it is.  It's a wannabe song maybe.  And the exciting thing is - you can totally make up your own tune.  It's like those pick-a-path books we used to read; "Choose your own adventure", except this is "Choose your own tune".

Some people in our group reflected on which character they felt they were, and why, or why not. Or what sort of character they expected each..erm, character...to be. Which got me to thinking that all three- Princess, Knight or Dragon could be both a goody and a baddy.  It's really up to time and place and context.  And I think whichever permutation of characters you should choose, there is probably something in all of them that you can relate to.  Enter The Wannabe Song.

 Princess of strength

sitting in a tower

takes more faith to wait than act

daughter of a King

You know Princess

The ‘you’ you are, the ‘you’ you’re meant to be

no stone-walled obstacles only brilliant possibility.

Princess of weakness

beware your shadow.

rivers run from helpless eyes

staring out the window.

You know Princess

The ugliness, the call to beauty

and you’re waiting for someone to save you.

Fairytale pictures, in leather bound tatters

Looking for myself inside the story.

a glimmer, a glance

of was and is and want to be

still looking when I turn the page

Cold unfeeling dragon

cling tightly to your tower

what if you were to lose

the only thing you’ve ever known

so cold and hard familiar

so rough and old yet yours

curled in upon yourself, don’t reach for more.

Glittering beast of a dragon,

fearsomely wonderfully proud

spread your wings, fight to the death

You’ve seen what treasure really is.

Breath of fire, belch of smoke

simply awe inspiring

erupt life and passion singing feathers

Fairytale pictures, in leather bound tatters

Looking for myself inside the story.

a thread of a glimmer

of was and is and want to be

still looking when I turn the page

So Knight you think you know the answers

You, your strength, your fight

But strip away your armour, still a battle man or woman?

It’s not the silver pants that matters it’s the heart of gold

Sir Knight you are compassion,

eyes and actions woven tightly

courageous ambassador

wearing your heart on your chainmail sleeve.

Fairytale pictures, in leather bound tatters

Looking for myself inside the story.

a thread of a glimmer

of was and is and want to be

still looking when I turn the page

And when I find myself, I’m not sitting at the window

I’m not riding on a ghostly steed

or breathing balls of fire

I’m  between the lines of fear and freedom, being and doing,

holding on, letting go

I’m pulled between the one who trusts and

one who doubts and cries

But the ink is not run out

I'm not sure it ever will.