On wearing dignity
Today was the funeral for the Māori Queen
Dame Te Atairangikaahu
child of the Kingitanga
all present said she was a woman
of great dignity
Dignity can not be worn
like a feather cloak
hanging off the shoulders
encircling the body
cannot be bought or traded
like land
Sometimes it is lost
like language
Taonga of true beauty
are hard to find
there is a cost in carrying them
to the end
Is one born with dignity
or is it something earned?
One Chief said
She moved among her people
Sustaining her people
With her presence
Dignity
not a cold hard thing
a mantle of memory
woven together
over many years
each thread a tribute
to humility
and a generous smile
In a lifetime
Te has rebuilt
a forgotten highway
her steep path turns from aggression
and the tools though sharp
have never been clenched
with violence
Peace has its own way
of cutting
Dignity commands your respect
your attention
though it seldom made the news
And now at her death
the news tells us she was a woman
of great dignity
And gradually,
little by little we notice
when she turned the last bend in the river
her wake still spread out in sharp lines
trails for us all to follow
big waka to fill
long way to paddle
Joel Carpenter likes surfing at Lyall Bay, organising poetry evenings and baking bread. He has a fine head of hair.