Hangliding Heart

This week I have missed my kiwi-land.

I have missed my jeans and leather boots,
fantails, and tuis in the kowhai blossoms,
my soft cherry wool scarf,
my hairdresser,
crisp rose apples
and autumn's brightness.

Probably more than anything,
that easy familiar concept of home,
friends that are family,
family that are friends and
my knitting of belonging just there.

When the missing comes,
and its not too often,
I just let it blow me
on gusts of memory.

And when all the winds have died down,


I paint the barn,
methodically landing my homesick-glider,
bringing myself back to terra-firma,
one tiny action at a time.
Moisturise, prime, foundation, blush.
Words hang around me as my hands are busy,
the printed names of cosmetics:
chocolate shimmer ink,
champagne quartz,nectar,
frosted lily and ginger rose.

I make my bed.
It orders my soul.



Then I head downstairs for a hot cuppa in my best mug,
composed but cradling an tiny weeny pebble of ache,
that to be honest,
I am in no hurry to lose.



I have a favourite chair to curl up in,
and sip my tea slowly,
walking myself down from the lookout.


To the space I find myself in now.
Not ordering wood and stacking it for winter.
Not buying the latest Donna Hay
or making pumpkin soup.
Not blowing on my hands watching kid's soccer.
Not watching the trees turn gold.
No dragon-breath,
no misty hills,
no woodsmoke at dusk.

Yet when I have all of that again, one day,
I will miss this.

I am trying to live without longing.
To live with elastic contentment,
and for the most part,
I can.

It's just that some days the stretch snaps,
the glider flips on the breeze
and I am helpless with the remembering.

Maybe tomorrow, or next week will be better
and I will crow with excitement with the
wonder of the now.

Just not today.

Kelly Sauer  – (April 14, 2011 at 1:10 AM)  

Living, dwelling, staying - in the between. This is the hard thing, the beautiful thing, the thing you can't do, the thing you must do.

I have lived here too; I do live here too. Here's to finding the life, wherever we are, and here's a hug for the rest...

Much love.

Frankie P  – (April 14, 2011 at 3:58 AM)  

Well this pretty much sums up how i am feeling today. Been in London 10 years, far to long, time to go home i think.. Great poem..

Gail  – (April 14, 2011 at 7:45 AM)  

Thanks sweets.
Reality of it all is hitting harder now... embracing it all.. so hard when so many tears involved in embracing.

Beautiful home xx

Penny  – (April 14, 2011 at 8:36 AM)  

yes, somedays its just amazing how going through the usual routines and simply "carrying on carrying on" can lift a mood.

Sj  – (April 14, 2011 at 7:55 PM)  

love hearing your voice through your writing Ames, love seeing your surroundings with the beautiful touches of nz. love it how you are finding your way there amidst the missing of here. i saw a tree changing colour today, it was beautiful.From now on, I will think of you each time i notice the trees my friend. I love them morphing, i love you! sez xx

Meghan at MNM's  – (April 14, 2011 at 8:10 PM)  

Wow, Amy this is beautiful. And I think that living with a little bit of an ache is OK. Whether its an ache for a distant land on Earth that has our heart or a deeper ache for our heavenly home, it's there in many of us.

Love the crisp whiteness of the pictures x

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