Tāne Mahuta
The One Who Separates Earth and Sky
I held up the sky so you could breathe.
I tore my parents apart so the world could live. You wouldn’t believe the weight of sky on your back, the ache of keeping earth from crushing what you love. I made woman from red clay and called her mine. I sang the first birds into the trees. I still hear them, even now. Some call me god of forests. They don’t understand the half of it.
What I'm Into: the ache of separation, sacred groves, birdsong at dawn, ancient bark warmed by sun, the first breath of life
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