8 Tētahi Waerea (Prayer of Protection) Clouds are habits over the seabed north and south feeding mineral salts spreading the eels’ tails and the eels’ mouths. Taniwha all of them. Taniwha swimming to the Waikato, taniwha in their weirs in the Nōta (up home) all the way to Tonga. The eel in me is a taniwha who protects, who swims, who speaks in bubbles, who meows with whiskers on fields, who slides in esses, who babies, who plays with kina softly, tentatively, between anemones and shell-shuttling crabbies lit in mild pink, but as an eel I am dark. The wannabe guitarist in me is a soloist with a mike, on a stool, guitar resting on my knee, song pitched to my throat sharing a Maisey Rika lyric. Yeah, right. Can’t do the work for him, and I can’t do the work for her. Can share this. About Te Whare o tō mātou mātua tūpuna and how our songs and voices in te reo Māori lifted me with many pairs of arms so I had wings again. Ka ora ka ora. Thank you very much: ngā mihi nunui e te whānau.