Watching the Ripples Radiate.
Author: marshalg

Chapter 78
So Dawn's Great Day is Out of Time,

The Harbour lies in gentle stillness
Clustered mussels hang from piers,
Tidal waters flow to ocean
Ground mists hang in level tiers.
Morning light fans out in brightness
Golden rays defeat the gloom,
The cloak of night retreats in grey-ness
Shore birds fly to setting moon
Waters edge refracts in blackness
Tiny ripples move the light,
Reflections of pohutukawas
Scarlet red in morning bright.
The heron glides above the mangroves
Harshness in it's croaking call
Gracefully alights on mud flats
Darting beak spears creatures small.
Black larva lies along the shoreline
Contortions in the massif show,
There's beauty in this living stone,
This ancient pyroclastic flow.
Golden light in summer grasses
Seed heads quiver in the air
A touch of breeze brings waves of movement
The living hillside ripples there.
The sea horizon breeds a storm line
Ominously dark it grows
Rising wind creating whitecaps
Rainstorms lashing  as it blows.
Boisterously the storm clouds billow
Such vigor in the darkening line,
There's  blackness of approaching rain
So dawn's great day is out of time.
A blue hulled vessel plies the water
Fishing nets festoon the decks,
She's sailing for the tidal channel,
Surging seas and coastal wrecks.
Sandstone cliffs protect the headlands
Holding back the ocean's might,
Preventing strife all through the narrows
But across the bar the strife's in sight.
Storm fronts cloak the coastal hillsides
Obliterating all from view,
Seaside batches fade to nothing
The black sand road is washed out too.
Yellow daisies blowing sideways
Summer grasses thrash and sway,
Seagulls dip and veer to windward
Campers calling it a day.
Down the cliff face water running
Pouring down in rivulets,
Waterfalls cascade in patterns
Joining up like diamond jets
Showers fall in sweeping shadows
Whitecaps stretch across the bay,
Small boats straining at the moorings,
Those summer squalls have come to play.


At the Gate

Mangere Bridge

3rd January 2009


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