Wahine Guideboat
Image Credit: Brooke McInnes
And then, she came along.
She seeped into my bones and remained there. In the night, I stood alone on the shore. Watching the sea like a keeper. Waiting for her. My green eyes sparkled off moana as they searched for her. On a boat in the distance, there she was. Her back faced the shore as she went into the night, into the abyss and in a corner of her mind, she found me there. The guideboat cradled a light in its nose, ma̅rama. She gazed into the open night sky with her hands opened and relaxed. The tips of her toes broke on the water as she left the wooden planks of safety beneath her. Moana carried her.
My soul ached as I watched on, waiting for her. The sea wrapped itself around her. I searched for her eyes, her love. I found them in the seven sisters and then in everything. Reaching for her hand, our grips were as tight as one another’s. Our heads rested gently together as we cradled our bodies. We both exhaled a breath which caused cosmic creation, and whole galaxies grew. A wind swept us away, and we became goddesses of light and sea, wai and mārama. My soul searched the deepest depths and found her. It recognised her. It called and yearned for her and waited as our lifespans aged centuries old.
The guideboat took us away, up into the sky. I look to the dark ground. The lifelines we call city streets spread as planned constellations, like stars on an unknown canvas above and below us. Clouds began to blanket the earth in a grey and mystical sense. If we fell from the sky, our bodies would sink into their unknown depth. The moon shines down on our foreheads like it was intended for us, like it was time to be kissed finally. The ground is laced with many paths and trails. My mind never knows which one to follow, but that guideboat out on smokey water always finds me and returns me to her.
Calming whales welcomed us and swirled in dance as our bodies cut through the black water. No air would fill our lungs, only the thirst to grasp one another and plunge into the depths of moana. Tohorā and mārama followed us as the hope of salvation beckoned our names. I watched her as her hand touched my heart, filling it with aroha and life. Our purpose.
I could tell she believed she didn’t deserve love with quiet observation. Like it was something that others were blessed to have. I believed this too. I paid attention to where the pain was. She breathed in pain and exhaled her aroha as Matariki watched. It seeped through her skin, into her eyes. It was in me. It was in her. Her chest sunk in as she threw her arms open. The way you do when you lie in the sunshine and welcome the warm glow to rest on your body. This force of the water, carrier, bearer, would move my world, yet she would only dedicate her power to those around her and only sometimes within. Matariki recognised this. Our collision was more powerful than the force of gravity. We dreamed as we were the wai and ma̅rama. With each other, but worlds apart.
I looked over the sea as I called for you, a soothing karanga. I noticed the water gently lapping at my feet. I noticed the sky above, vast and orange, and the cool night air whipping across my face and tangling love knots into my hair. The very essences that united us were all around me. They were in her. This soaked into my bones, right down to my marrow. As I watched her in the sunset of our lives, her body danced in a fluid rhythm. She smiled as her gentle power quantified. Her hair whipped the water as she sent the tips of her fingers to the edge of the universe. I gazed in silent happiness as the white sunshine I adored wrapped around me. Her warmth saved me. The magic that had us destined to be is peppered with an unbreakable ring of black beauty. We are something unworldly.
And this is how I knew we would never be ordinary again.
