Climbing Mangere Mt at night...

 Last night my beloved took our family on a family walk up the Mangere mountain in the evening after 8pm when it was just turning dark. I walked around the perimeter of one side of the mountain whilst my family walked straight up the mountain.

It reminded me of a poem that I wrote a few years ago and published it last year in my first collection of poetry called "Pacific Hibiscus" which is also the name of the small publishing company I started in 2015. The poem is titled:


Mangere my mountain

It was a beautifully sunny day when we first met
I was young, oh so very young
dressed in crisp white pants, new sandals, a light top.
I often see you out my window
driving past nearly every day and now on a family trip.
     I watch you.

We walk down into the dormant volcanoes' deep pit
not so bad, with lava rocks spewn in all directions
"Let's climb this mountain,"
says my adventurous Papa.
     I smile upon you.
   
"Up we go," he says.
I look up, daunted.
Oh - my - goodness
Oh so tall, so very tall.
     I tease you.

We make our ascent
Papa leads the way
my elder sister and younger brother following
Mama tailing me encouragingly
I'm so scared, so very scared.
     Hold on to me.

I cling to you, scared to fall
"Don't look down," my Mama says.
My clothes not so bright anymore
just one foot in front of the other.
     You've left your touch upon me.

We're almost at the top
Papa, brother, sister relax awaiting our belated arrival
"Will you want to come back on a school trip?"
Mama asks encouragingly.
"No, never again." I vow.
     You left without saying 'goodbye'.

But I do return,
on my last senior year Geography fieldtrip.
We meet again, I busily chatting with schoolmates.
I laugh at the 'solidified dinosaur faeces' scattered
randomly in your crater.
"Solidified lava rock, better known as scoria,"
my geography teacher corrects.
     Do you remember me?

We walk around the rim,
Disinterested cows observe the twittering teenagers
as our teacher tour guide explains
how it once was a fortified Maori Pa
sunken earth of kumara pits
evidenced by sheeped terraces no longer fenced
I survey the panorama of Onehunga to the north with
Puketutu Island at my shoulder
How long have  you lain? I earn respect for you
     You now learn of me.

University days burdened with study,
As our bus daily bundles past
We smell the stench of the rotting sewage ponds
and hold our noses in disgust.
I ignore your beauty.
     Have you forgotten me?

Years later, to return with my husband
and our little girls
"Let's climb this baby,"
my adventurous husband challenges us.
Leading us carefully over small hills
With little girls laughing.
     I smile knowingly.

     *     *     *

Ko Mangere te maunga
Ko Moana nui a kiwa te moana
Ko Hamoa te whenua
Ko Hamoa te iwi

How can I forget?
You are my mountain.