For Kris

Whenever I can’t sleep

I think about my nights at Morewine

smoking illicit cigarettes out of the upstairs window

The day we hosted Fun Palace

the generosity, the gentle words

the quiet sherbet taste of belonging

We were only there because of you

your “hey, we can do this”

your “hey, wouldn’t it be fun?”

This is the house

where Kylie and Mark fell in love

where I came to make something of myself

You made something of me

the night you painted lines on my back

and pushed me onto the stage

I knew nothing of bravery

but the kaupapa of Morewine is compassion

courage, encouragement, acceptance

The kaupapa of Morewine

is the sound of the sea

the warm salt smell, the sting of the wind in the winter

the promise of shelter within

The kaupapa of Morewine is an everweaving thread

of those there, and gone, and those who will be

It lives beyond walls

It breathes

The kaupapa of Morwine is abundance

wherever I, you, we are

you will fill the glass to the brim

and we will watch it flow over.