Through deep green valleys tinged with silken dew as mist enfolds the stillness of morning. Where ancient warriors tread silently, and long lost birds fill the air with fluted song. Along narrow paths that hide the secrets that long ago did permeate the air and fill the crevises of a rich earth.
Come, take my hand and walk with me.
Beside rock filled rivers, sparkling as sunlight bends and distorts in fragments upon the flowing ribbon of time. Where paths of aged leaves crunch beneath our feet and shafts of light shine as daggers through the fingered canopy above. Where insects weave in circles as we brush aside sweet grass that shakes its tender seeds to the ground.
Come, take my hand and walk with me.
Along golden beaches where seabirds call, loud and shrill, and cool winds blow the clouds above an aqua sea, to spread across the sky in gentle streams of milky swirls. Where footprints of a lost age indent the soft, wet sand and rainbow coloured pebbles tell of a million years of travel from mountain to shore.
Oh! Come, take my hand and walk with me.
High atop a mountain ridge to stand in awe and see the dark green hills below, speckled red with rata flowers and bursting fronds of ponga, unfolding through the undulating carpet of russet, green and brown. To hear the morning song of Tui and feast our ears upon Bellbirds haunting chimes. To watch in awe the rising of a golden sun as it gently, silently lays scarlet fingers on the distant hills and lifts itself with unmatched perfection, to waken all who may bask in its beauty.
Come, take my hand and walk with me.
Through forest pass decked in Winter's silent shroud, hidden beneath a soft blanket of glistening snow. To stroke icy thorns that sprout from pointed leaf and melt with our touch. To gaze upon crystal prisms, respendent as they shimmer in the shade and slowly fade to join the frozen earth below. To gaze upward to a canopy of snow patched branches, crisp and soft against the grey colour of a Winters day.
Come, take my hand and walk with me.
Across vast plains of rolling hills, beneath an arching ocean of pale blue sky. Let us tread the golden fields of parched grassland, broken only by tarmacked roads that point like needles to some distant place as yet beyond our gaze. Where sparkling shards of morning frost crack beneath our feet and ghosts of the past travel unseen tracks hidden by a thousand years of growth and decay.
Come, take my hand and walk with me.
We shall gaze upon snow topped mountains silhouetted against the distant sky. We shall feel the sea wash around our feet as they sink into giving sand. We shall smell the sweet scent of clematis dripping as falling stars from high in forest trees. We shall hear the plaintive flute of Kokako, the gentle coo of Kereru, the joyful chatter of Kakariki, and when the sun is at rest and dark is the order we shall wander in the nights cool air and hear the echo call of Morepork and the distant peel of Kiwi. We shall stand as one beneath towering beech, shelter from salt laden wind under the spreading branches of scarlet flowered Pohutukawa, and watch as albatross take flight from southern shores to disappear into distant skies.
Oh! Come, take my hand and walk with me.
We shall sit upon the edge of a coastal cliff, with waves below that crash upon rock and sand, and we shall watch as the sun slowly ends the day, softly drifting down to the horizon, and showering the sky and sea with such colour that we shall stare in joyful wonder at the pageantry and celebration before us that only God can perform. And as the colours gently fade and the last blaze of light dissipates, we shall bask in the radiant glow of evening and hear the distant call of gulls as they return to their clifftop ledge. And then we shall sleep. We shall lay our heads upon the soft moss that covers earth and crumbling tree roots, and our spent bodies shall become one with the leaf, the ant, the earth, the Life that is death, the death that is Life. We shall become the leaf, the ant, the earth, and we shall live on until the circle spins to an end.
