My Tūrangawaewae*

It's been just over six months since I last felt the sting of a Wellington southerly, six months since I left my lovely dog, friends and home at the arse end of the world to set up camp in a city I've never even visited.

And although the road has been long and filled with pot-holes you could fish it, there is much about being here that makes me smile. Yet, every so often, I have a flashback and have to catch my breath: I long to see Wellington's cute wooden houses clinging perilously to the hillside, to run along her beautiful waterfront and have brunch in the Botanic Gardens or the Aro Cafe.

If I shut my eyes hard enough, I could almost be back there: walking Molly in the town belt, losing the better part of a lunchtime at the funky library, or visiting Brookyn's art house cinema on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

I miss being in the 04 more than I ever thought I would but I know that one day, hopefully in the not too distant future, Wellington will once again open her arms and wrap me in her embrace.

Today I stumbled across this stunning collection of words that sums up my longing better than I ever could:

I hear you calling me

haere mai, haere mai

in my dreams

haere mai, haere mai

from the land you call to me

call to me

come home

my heart is in your forests

my spirit is in your land

eyes coloured by your sky

sea washed by ancient rites

I hear you calling me

back to the land,

to the land

my ancestors/mothers rest

within their ground

calling me

haere mai, haere mai

welcome home daughter

you of the land

welcome home daughter

you of the sky

sacred sea

sacred spirit

we watch our daughter

daughter of daughters

we watch her now.

call to your land daughter

call to your land

call to all the daughters

haere mai, haere mai daughter

now of the land.

Carol Neilson

* Home, the place where you feel most connected and empowered