Abstract
The other day I was driving through the northern part of Rohe Pōtae o Maniapoto (the King Country). I grew up on a farm on the edge of Aohena. It is a beautiful place if you like the bush. I had left home in the dark, just as dawn was touching the sky. At that time of day, demarcations of time are very subtle, and I was reminded of one of my nannies who would greet the beauty of such a thing with a whisper:
 Ki te whei ao (To the glimmer of dawn)Ki te ao mārama (To the bright light of day)Tihei mauri ora! (There is life!)
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