MARCH 2007

ISSUE 9 - ISSN 1448 - 6326

INSPIRATIONS - POEMS - REFLECTIONS

O MY BEAUTIFUL NUKU'ALOFA

Terra d'Amore - Land of Love

A poetic, tearful lamentation at what has befallen our beautiful island of Tonga.

Mikaele Paunga SM

Dedicated to My God, my King and Country

Words cannot explain how I gaze you ablaze

How your beauty has been blood-stained and defaced

My land of love - Nuku'alofa, you have become tears of blood

Your fire of love has become fire of destruction

O! my land of love, what have you done?

The news of your desolation resounds through the universe

Aching my soul with an immense abyss of sadness

Why have we allowed impatience, madness and unruliness

To rule over reasonableness, calmness and friendliness,

O! my Terra d'Amore, what have you done?

Your face is so disfigured that I could hardly recognize you

Your very heart carved open by hands emanating from you

I am relegated to numbness, lost for words, shocked to base

Stealing, looting, burning, demolition, am put to silence

O! my Nuku'alofa, look at what they have done to you!

Democracy! how can you rise up and proclaim victory

Amidst ruins, dead bodies, heart aches, now your responsibility

Is this your true nature to resort to fire, blood and force to win?

It sounds more like Beelzebul, a far cry from justice, has claimed its sting.

O! my Friendly Islands, look at what pro-democracy has done to you!

My beloved! how can burning and pillaging become means for democracy?

How can killing be termed freedom of expression and freedom of speech?

How can demolition and violence become love and justice for a country?

My Kings, ancestors and forefathers, rise up, hear and see

The loud and inconsolable cry of your beloved country

O dignified Democracy! Where is your authenticity?

Your noble values lie in respect of human dignity and human property;

Protector of truth, human freedom, life and its sanctity;

Upholder of justice and non-violent, in a multicultural society;

Defender of the poor, the voiceless and the rights of the minority

O true and fair Democracy! Where on earth have you been?

O! my Nuku'alofa! if only you could see the tears in my eyes

If only you could hear the solitude sound of my cries

If only my heart could be laid bare before you

So you can see it aching and wailing in love for you

O! My Nuku'alofa

O! My once friendly isles, my land of love,

How can I soothe the aches and pains that I feel for you?

How can I possibly sing a love song for you?

When your heart of love, kindness, friendliness have been rid of you?

O! My Nuku'alofa, my Terra d'Amore!

O! my beloved Tonga ko e fonua malu,

How can you destroy the foreigners who fakamalumalu in you?

When your own sons and daughters everywhere are foreigners too,

Yet never have they been subjected to such barbaric rule,

O! my land of love, how can this be spoken of you? 

My Tonga , my Nuku'alofa, my Friendly Islands!

Where is your wisdom, fofola e fala kae fai e tālanga

Where are your noble values of respect, calmness & forgiveness?

Have we replaced them with impatience, greediness & personal gains?

O! my noble Tongan values, O please stand up, speak to me, where are you?

My Tonga , my Nuku'alofa, my land of love,

If I forget you, let my whole being wither

How can I forget you and prefer foreign systems and gods to you?

Have you gone mad because you have been unjustly treated?

Or have you gone astray because you are greedy and power hungry?

Let me renew my covenant with you

Let me once more have some respect for you

Let me rise now with new songs of justice

Of love, of hope and of peace

My Nuku'alofa, my friendly islands

Behold! you have neither silver nor gold,

You have the fe'ofo'ofani, fetokoni'aki, and fefaka'apa'apa'aki,

Sharing, reciprocal love, wonderful hospitality and angai-kainga

These are your God-given silver and gold,

These are your God-given source of happiness and joy

My beloved King,

My beloved Tonga ,

My beloved country,

My friendly isles

My God fearing people

My land of love,

My Nuku'alofa,

Though you have been deeply wounded,

Severely scarred, debased and defaced,

I love you still,

I treasure you still,

I still call you: MY VERY OWN!

Fr. Dr. Mikaele Paunga SM wrote this poem in response to the political situations in his homeland, Tonga, last November 2006. He lectures in theology at the Pacific Regional Seminary, Suva, Fjii Islands..

Email: mpaunga@hotmail.com

CONNECTIONS

My soul, as a gipsy

lives in the spaces

between earth and heaven.

Like the olive tree

planted in the dusty soil

connected to the earth.

Connecting to heaven

through the branches

reaching out to each other.

Earth and Heaven unite

in the green olive leaves

of a loving community.

My soul is made real

by the thin threads

that connect the stranger.

The Stranger – Ecce Homo.

Ripe olives dropping to the ground

falling, as the tears of Christ. (1)

Irvine Ross

Irvine Ross is a Bachelor of Theology student at the Australian Catholic University, McAuley Campus. This poem is dedicated to his wife, Mara.

"scottross" scottross@comcen.com.au

P. SULLIVAN SM

REFLECTION - A WAY OF LOOKING AT RECONCILIATION

“Truth and Mercy have met together. Justice and Peace have embraced” (Psalm 85:10)

Psalm 85:10 identifies and connects the foundational elements of reconciliation.

Truth shared by the victim gives a voice to the voiceless and breaks the prison of shame and isolation. Truth spoken by the victim validates their pain of loss and humiliation and begins the process of restoring their dignity and humanity.  Truth told by the victim exposes the lie, deception and culture of silence or ‘forgetfulness’ of the perpetrator or the ‘dominant’ storytellers.  The truth is healing. “The truth will set you free”.

Justice founded on truth names the harm and wrong done to individuals and groups and exposes systemic injustices and racism.  Justice acknowledges individual and group rights, identifies the need for restitution and restores a moral order to the systems of society.  Justice is healing and affirms the integrity, dignity and humanity of all parties.

Mercy linked to truth and justice cuts through the futility and violence of vengeance, revenge, gossip, envy and scape-goating.  Mercy releases the power and wisdom of forgiveness, allows for the possibility of a new tomorrow and transforms relationships.  Mercy is healing and restores hope, compassion and humanity for all parties.

Peace without truth, justice and mercy will not lead to lasting reconciliation. Peace is the healing of memories and the acceptance of the present. Peace is the restoration of right relationships – within the person, between persons, within society and with God. Peace is underscored by the need for interdependence, order and security.  Peace is the fruit of healing and celebrates the dignity and humanity of both parties.

Truth, justice, mercy and peace are at the heart of who God is and are lived to the depths of love on the cross by the person of Jesus. “All things are reconciled to God in Christ”.  

Sources: J. P Lederach and G.A. Arbuckle

A GARDEN POEM

Original drawing by Bet Green

BET GREEN

I nearly killed my son this morning
He’s turned thirty
Six foot slowed by epilepsy
He stole my parsley plant
I’d been watching for weeks
All he wanted was the soil in the pot
All I’ve got left are stalks.

He hangs around all day
Probing the icy barrier I’ve  built
While his brother crouches
Oblivious over a stone table
Under a beach umbrella in
The back-yard his long slender
Fingers trembling guiding the
Welder he’s just bought.

It’s his reward for breaking
After he got dropped and
Ending up so ill
He’ll always have the pension
To buy things and go on making
His inventions to content his heart.
He starts at my yelling and now
His sad dark eyes look at me.

High overhead the Norfolk pine
Thins to an arrow and in its shade
We hold our breath catching the
Breeze listening as people do
With broken hearts and skin
Thinned and tears nestled in
The corners of the eyes
But hidden and throats a
Loosened knot and voiceless.

In front of his dark garden
Round the side of the house my
Tall son a soft smudge on the edge
Of my vision motionless peers out
Exiled among the cool custard apple
Leaves his slacks black as velvet
Beside a pink rambling rose.

Surely peace is ours here
To make or break
In this garden far from Eden yet
Sometimes oh so Eden-like where
God walks while the nervous sounds
Of the city are hushed to silence
Among the surrounding shrubs
Overarching flowers
And falling fruits.

And so I sigh a deep sigh
And my heart says
I’m sorry while at my feet the
Terrier rolls over on her back
And kicks her short
Shaggy feet
Into the air.

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