Voltage

A wavering green lizard tattoo
rides a tsunami out of the blue;
daylight swims through yellow leaf veins,
bouquets of scratches gifted you by thorns

Seeds arrive on a hawk's feathers,
sailed away from tussock fires;
rivers writhe and fall in thunder to boil
through rocks riven open to heaven.

Night's lightning plays hide and seek
in a tree, then blows apart the bark;
seven barbed wires, closely battened,
lead to a five-barred gate, grey-lichened.

This braided beauty is a mystery,
stealing along a turquoise tracery;
bruises of apples, stabbed by wasps,
mauve mountains count the cost.

Bitter leaves that cure, tea to brew,
berries eaten, a tongue to rue;
inside the tower of kauri heartwood,
a single window opens outwards.

Count zero in red to break thin ice,
shatter mud glaze to free your eyes;
glide a millennium round and round,
over Rūaumoko's stamping ground.

Buds of purple thyme scent warm air,
harlequin geckos gorge on bush nectar;
an ant dreams locked in amber gum,
white clouds shine crystalline in the sun.

— David Eggleton