Watching, watching, ever watching…
We, Hotu Matu’a’s children,
breathing prayers to Make-make,
ranks of stone on Rapa Nui
silent, sighing, facing seaward
all our eyes now blankly dreaming
which once flashed like pearl and coral…
History has floated by us,
we have watched the spoil, the fallen,
all the passings-by and landfalls,
villainy and celebration,
lives and loves, and devastation,
ancestors forgotten, children
playing by the surf at twilight…
Where are all our lofty builders?
Gone across the endless ocean,
past the island of the seabirds
to the long land of the mountains;
fallen, crying in our grassland,
stricken, dying and forgotten;
mingled in the blood of strangers.
Now our prayer to Make-make
is a secret incantation
whispered by the passing breezes,
guessed from seabirds’ idle crying,
known to skulls, to crawling beetles,
never from the living voices,
never from the shouts and laughter
of the folk from Rapa Nui…
They have passed into some quiet
island in the furthest sunset.
We, the Moai, standing, stoic,
blindly facing to the ocean
less in hope than desperation,
voiceless, lean and enigmatic,
with our ghost-eyes pearl and coral
watching, watching, ever watching…
Author notes
Knocked up quickly for the contest, but I enjoyed writing it.
In a list
A contest entry
- Ode To Easter Island by ea.
500 points, ended July 21, 2007, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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playing by the surf at twilight…
Where are all our lofty builders?
Gone across the endless ocean,
Did you know that the word "builders" in Hebrew is
"children"? -
Mairi
The Moai probably watched Pablo Neruda being born, that is, if they are facing east. I loved the sound this poem makes, like it didn't want to disturb the quiet of the
island itself. And it didn't!
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I am gratified you loved the sound. I found myself using a Longfellowian rhythm before I knew where I was!
Builders = children. Wow.
M
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I really love this, it's perfection
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Jings! Really? I don't think that word has ever been applied to anything I have written. Thank you!
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Oh, yes... I agree with ea that I recognized the sound of this poem and that made me enjoy it even more!
Add to that... a poem by YOU, finally, to read afresh, and this is a fine day to celebrate poetry! 
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Shhhh! Will you girls PLEASE stop mentioning the Longfellow sound!
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By the shores of... On the shores of... ???
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(Done in any case)
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SHHHHH !!!!!
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wonderful! I recognize the Longfellowian rhythm here. I was just thinking about you because I read a hilarious spoof on Longfellow by Lewis Carrol about Hiawatha's Camera.
I actually love this portrayal of the somber statues whose glittering pearl and coral details have faded and the idea that they still whisper incantations. If a civilization is going to decimate itself, it's fascinating to think these sentries they left behind in so doing would live on...
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Darn it, I thought I would get away with the Longfellowian rhythm un-noticed! It is, after all, only the second time I have used it EVER - and the first was a deliberate homage to Longfellow! But I am glad you liked it!
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lol. that is funny, because I DID read this blind. I just knew though. You know I love Longfellow. Cut my teeth on him.
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{imagining Longfellow covered in infant bite-marks}
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lol. He's sterling.
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