(after Liz Breslin and Wistawa Szymborska)

I prefer to choose aroha.

I prefer to walk barefoot, so I miss nothing that Papatūānuku has to say to me.
I prefer the colours of sunset.
I prefer birdsong and children's laughter to that of leaf blowers.
I prefer the essence of kindness.

I prefer the sounds of Takaroa stroking the shore.
I prefer freedom to oppression, and honesty to half-baked truths.
I prefer to write when it is time, rather than in regulated time slots.
I prefer unquestioned respect of Te Ao Tūroa.

I prefer living simply to consumerism.
I prefer the touch of manu wings on my face to the back of a hand.
I prefer thick sheltering forests to wide open plains.
I prefer my ringaringa in another’s to a self-imposed hermitage.

I prefer natives to introduced species.
I prefer quiet authenticity.
I prefer meaningful connection to systemic avoidance.
I prefer autumn, safe in the knowledge that everything has a life cycle.

I prefer to expose the greying strands of my hair.
I prefer kōrero in person as opposed to communicating via the Internet.
I prefer to sing aloud in the car.
I don't prefer silent unspoken things.

I prefer non-martyred compromise.
I prefer to tend my wounds before creating them for another.
I prefer compassion to witch-hunts.
I prefer to believe in the possibility of something beautiful, rather than fear the inevitable pain of loss.

I prefer to choose aroha.