Tōku Māmā
Her blonde hair. Her blue eyes. Her soft lily skin.
She speaks about the magic of the womb, of a Pākehā body that birthed Māori children: ‘For the womb does not distinguish or judge like the mind.’ I sit here in awe as She shares Her rongoa, Her wise Woman wisdom. I always knew She was a Witch, and now I'm starting to think it’s cool again.
I see Her reflection so much that sometimes I wonder if I am even me. The strengths tip my brain into the stars. And the faults, which keep me grounded, working and hopefully humble.
I feel I might be looking into the future when we converse. When I trip up in the same spots She did, I understand the rigidity of those cycles we are incessantly fighting. And when I feel accomplished, it is often Her strength and support I acknowledge.
Tōku Māma: The healer. The teacher. The stitcher of worlds.