My Mana is dimished

When my Maunga stands tall, unmoving
With no threat of demolition
Only then will I stand tall.
But I see a new highway.  

When my Awa flows freely
Clean, dependable and continuous
Only then will I feel at ease.
But I taste chlorine.

When my native
trees are firmly grounded
In rich soil purifying the air around us
Only then will I breathe.
But I smell pollution.

When my people are deep-rooted
Thriving and excelling in our cultural identity,
connection and practice’s
Only then will I truly be able to say
The narrative of my people is being heard.  
But I hear silence.

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