A few weeks ago, on a late summer’s day, we went for a walk to the Blue Spring in Putaruru, where most of New Zealand’s bottled water flows from.
The water is a magical blue colour, with bright green weeds that call you to watch out for freshwater nymphs swimming beneath the ripples. Madelyn rode on my back, and we filled our drink bottles with fresh water and ate lunch beside the spring while our friends swam in the freezing water.
There, in the beauty and the sun, we found this poem, in honour of Linda Margaret Pearce, who passed away on the 18th October, 2003. It is so perfect.
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better
To paint a picture or write a letter
Bake a cake or plant a seed
Ponder the difference between want and need
Dust if you must, but the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain
This day will not come around again
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time
With rivers to swim and mountains to climb
Music to hear and books to read
Friends to cherish and life to lead
Dust if you must, but bear in mind
The time will come and it’s not kind
And when you go, and go you must
You yourself will make more dust