Red Rocks

The strength of the forest was Rangi's,
The vigour and grace of the kauri,
As lissom his limbs as the rimu,
And russet as frost-fingered birches.
There, naked he stood to the stinging
Sea-breeze and the kiss of the lilting
White spray as it leapt in the sunbeams.
No fear in his body, but joy in
His heart was fast throbbing; no terror
Of death on a day when the earth and
The ocean were laughing and swiftly
The winds were all whispering of speeding
Him heavenwards when the strife ended.

Up rose the Taniwha, serpent-like monster,
Slayer of thousands and god of disaster;
Sunlight and happiness shuddered in horror.
Swiftly the struggle for Rangi was ending,
But ere his spirit was snatched by the breezes,
Smote he the Taniwha through his heart deeply.
Red were the rocks with the blood of the vanquished,
Red were they too with the life of the victor;
Round them the waves moaned and sobbed in their anguish.
Still to this day are they tinted with crimson,
And green, curling billows, in solemn, deep grandeur Mourn ever around them.

—M.L.