a marvelous year

Today is National Poetry Day. There's many a New Zealand poem that has echoed in my heart, ruffled my feathers, kept time with my step, captured my tears or provoked me to laughter.

Today, I've had Curnow's line about a marvelous year flitting through my brain as I've tweaked power points and written a job ad (come and work for me - I'm lovely) - and well, while it is old, and probably not very hip in conteporary poetry terms, I do feel like this time, this age, NOW, could be our marvelous year.

I am romatically inclined and naively hopeful about many things - but I do believe that our Parliament is capable of making the right decision about marriage equality.

'The Skeleton of the Great Moa in the Canterbury Museum, Christchurch.' Allen Curnow.

The skeleton of the moa on iron crutches
Broods over no great waste; a private swamp
Was where this tree grew feathers once, that hatches
Its dusty clutch, and guards them from the damp.

Interesting failure to adapt on islands,
Taller but not more fallen than I, who come
Bone to his bone, peculiarly New Zealand's.
The eyes of children flicker round this tomb

Under the skylights, wonder at the huge egg
Found in a thousand pieces, pieced together
But with less patience than the bones that dug
In time deep shelter against the ocean weather:

Not I, some child, born in a marvelous year,
Will learn the trick of standing upright here.

O'Sullivan, V. (Ed.). (1979). An anthology of twentieth century New Zealand poetry. Wellington: Oxford University Press.