There was much talk about James K. Baxter's commune
in Wanganui then. Many disliked having the refuge
for young people who were misfits and addicts
on their back doorstep; but some liked it.
Baxter offered them hope to come off substances,
and turn their lives around, partly successful.
Jerusalem was a Maori village forty kilometres
north of Wanganui: it was on the River Road,
which I drove along one Saturday, hoping
to meet the poet and then look around town.
The local Maori people (tangata whenua)
had given Jima home near the marae
and the Catholic church, which he appreciated.
The poet was away the day I called, giving me time
to stroll around the remote village, time to reflect
on the river and climb the steep hillside.
It was there that I found James K. Baxter's grave
some years later, inscribed just 'Hemi'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem