Boats in their moorings lean towards my heart.
Mountains rise into the clouds, pausing at eternity.
The Kotuku opens its chest to release the year’s rains.
Seeds at its beak sprout and suddenly the world lives.
A morning at your mouth tells me tomorrow
has dust in my breath; a parachute beside my dreams,
a group of stars about to explode in my voice.
Can I explain to you where the fragments fall?
I must stand up if the world needs my poetry.
Seek out people holding candles and small darkness.
Write elegies on desolate coastlines. Because, when
I have had enough, I will install my history
in one book enough to rival a train’s melancholia.
Goodbye, I will see you all when the springtime arrives.
From 100 Love Poems (Earl of Seacliff, 2005)
© John Pule