under the long white clouds
fleets of canoes had brought families to this isle of ferns, molten lava and swamps.

tribes have fought and fended for lands,
their lines of ancestry were carved on flesh.
stories were told and songs were sung,
to pass along heritage whence it’d begun.

the east winds carried whirling gusts,
the north winds summoned rain,
the harshest chill was ushered from south,
while east winds cleared the sky above.

mountains tall were topped with snow and
water streamed down a deep blue lake.
underneath the creaseless calm
lest a dormant giant comes awake.

history may have cunning plots,
but as long as the white clouds hover,
the stories, songs and the lore of people go on.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *
photo courtesy of bernard, taken in waitomo, new zealand.

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