The Bells of Aotearoa by Greg Wilson begin_of_the_skype_highlighting copyrightend_of_the_skype_highlighting
In memory of the Miners of the West Coast who never came home.
Written in 2010 after the Pike River mine explosion that claimed the lives of twenty nine miners the attitude of the West Coast people leaves an indelible impression. They demonstrate a healthy acceptance of life, risk and loss that was once common in this great little country of ours. Not for them the closing down of all risk to cower in fear endlessly gnashing teeth over what they have lost. Instead they show an honest appraisal and expression of their loss with a determination to overcome their grief and live on in the fullness of their experiences together as a community. A rugged and daunting natural environment the West Coast has no patience for unrealistic sentiments born of an urban existence far removed from the land that sustains it. Coasters, I salute you.
Paparoa shrouded grey, lies muted ‘neath the pall
the bells, they toll for miners gone, breakers roll and roll
softly dripping tears of sacred mists speak their peace
unto the gloom, come back they say, on a cloudless day and listen
to the unmuted bells of Aotearoa play
for we shall stand and we shall sing
we shall break in joy upon the shore
those who feast upon our grief shall in hunger turn away
as upon the courage of our miners gone
we build tomorrow today, so stand at dawn
in silence upon the river, ‘tween the mountains and the sea
and hear the bells, the unmuted bells of Aotearoa play.
