Pandemic Poetry: Poem of the Day, 20 April 2020

Today our government makes a difficult decision–whether to lift some of our restrictions, or keep us in lockdown for another few weeks. It is not a task I’d wish on anyone, because each option comes with significant costs. What I trust, though, is that they will keep in the back of their minds the Māori saying: He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tāngata, he tāngata, he tāngata. What is the most important thing in the world? The people, the people, the people.

For readers unfamiliar with Te Reo Māori, he tāngata means the people, and tamariki are children.

Pandemic Poetry: Poem of the Day, 18 April 2020

I put today’s poem up in pouring rain, and the fence was a little too visible against the wet building wrap, so here’s today’s poem typed out, in case you can’t read it on the photo:

I have thrown my watch away.
The magpie tells me when morning’s arrived.
My stomach announces lunch.
It’s time for tea when the water is hot.
And anytime’s good for brunch.
Dinner we make as the sun’s light fades.
And wine is for after dark.
Bedtime is sometime when boredom takes hold
And exhaustion puts out our spark.

Pandemic Poetry: Poem of the Day, 14 April 2020

It’s a crisp cold morning, inside and out. We’re beginning to really look forward to living in a house again some day.

But working in the garden is warm work, and we’ve been doing a fair bit of it–the blank canvas of the new property is starting to fill in.

And I’m still quite enjoying the laughter and smiles as people stop by to read the daily poem. So many other lovely things have been happening around the community, too–Easter eggs in windows and hanging from tree branches and fences, encouraging messages and jokes written in chalk on the sidewalk, rocks painted with good wishes tucked in the grass where walkers will see them. We may be physically distant, but folks have definitely come together as a community to pull through this. Kia kaha everyone!