David Chadwick

See these tracks, these footprints in the sand?

Two people passed this way not long ago

Walking close together, side by side

Hand in hand or arm in arm perhaps

They climbed this dune, and here they sat a while

On this smooth, inviting, sun-bleached log

Gazing at the sea or at each other

Then they rose and wandered on again

Here they paused, stood facing, toe to toe

And then ... what happened next is hard to say

The rising tide has washed the rest away

                                * * *

You smile and say, "The tales this coast could tell ..."

And yet, it speaks from every shell and stone

From every clump of wind-blown marram grass.

 

That smooth white log was once a tiny shoot

It grew into a tall and towering tree

And now it tells of storms and endless rain

Of rocks and bush-clad hillsides crashing down

And swollen mud-brown rivers pouring through

Roaring mountain valleys, wild and high

On its journey westward to the sea.

 

These shattered cliffs and scattered rocks below

Speak of unimaginable forces

Pushing upwards, tearing Earth apart

And then the ocean patiently at work

Repossessing one grain at a time.

 

This island like a  ship anchored off shore

Speaks of whale boats slicing through the waves

Running down the telltale plumes of spray

Of fleets of waka pulling to the beach

Of war and blood that stained the sea and sand

And that one lonely rock weeps tears of stone

She cries for love, deceit, and sweet revenge.

 

These gentle waves now whisper to the shore

Of huge and frightening seas that screamed and raged

Of small boats overturned and ships aground

Landing craft and young men far from home

Lost beyond the callous breaker line

Tragedies to measure out each step.

 

But joy and happiness stand near as well

The stream says here the coach and horses crossed

And joined together settlements and towns.

 

On sunny days the city people came

They spread their towels and blankets by this wall

The children dug their castles in this sand

And chased each other laughing to the sea.

 

The gulls with keening calls announce on high

Their news of shifting winds and ocean tides

And memories of tasty fish once seen

That ran in schools a hundred metres wide

And made the sea a pool of bubbling silver.

 

Here you and I once stood at end of day

To watch the red sun sink into the sea

Then headed off along the sandy track

To find our way back home in fading light.

                                * * *

The present moment holds the past as well

Yes indeed, the tales this coast could tell.