Psalm 3

I never knew, Kotuku, my feet were made of clay
Till I lost you, my Kotuku, that dark & bitter day
I lived a lie, began to die, lost my beloved friend
So all alone, I sank like stone, beyond the rivers bend

But then you flew, Kotuku, my precious lonely one
My beautiful, my Kotuku, my ever living sun
And now you are, never far, my souls companion
Just you and me, so ever free, beloved talisman

My Kotuku, My Wairua… My Spirit standing free
My Kotuku, My Aroha… My River running deep

(Twice)

Kevin Moran 1/1/10

Whakapapa: Following a significant dream (see psalm 2), in which I encountered a partial glimpse of a white incandescent Kotuku in West Coast bush, the Kotuku became a symbol of my eternal Self (or my inner Christ… the Angel of my Being). Verse one speaks of a life lived disconnected from the Self. Verse two of a life lived at-one with the Self). My daughter Sita Moran has put this poem to music. Her beautiful song, accompanied by harpist Helen Webby and guitarist Davy Stuart can be viewed on the home page of this website.

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