Constitutional imaginings

Fine muka, woven
by grandmothers’ gnarled hands.
Written in a thousand dialects
in a voice we all understand.
Punctuated by tūī trills,
reverberating whale song.
Adorned with treasure
from children’s trouser pockets.
Let it flow
with contours of land,
soar high as imagination.
Large enough to
shelter all,
small enough to carry close
to our hearts.
Let it remember
We are
of the Earth,
Affirm
intimate connections,
Remind us
to love one another,
again.

By Arama Rata