The Waka

 Waka

On the ancient waka I row amongst my whanau, listening to warriors shouting “Ka mate Ka mate ! The water goes “splash” as we push the waves behind us. Oars dig into the moana and rise back up to the surface like the cogs in a great war machine. The bow and the stern of the boat is as sharp as the end of a taiaha.

As we paddle further and further we grow hungry and thirsty. The whanau and I tell each other the way to Aotearoa. The warriors rowing the waka with their oars the shape of feathers. The waka is decorated in red the shade of the blood and  torn flesh of our enemy’s. Warriors making pukanas with tremendous, wide eyes and protruding tongues. Mokos on faces of the warriors showing their forefathers. The whanau and I push and push with our oars cutting though the turquoise waters. We are ready for war.