12/08/2025
STORY TIME FOR YOUR TUESDAY READS!
Te Wehenga: When Sky and Earth Let Go
In the vast nothingness of Te Kore, before the dawn, there existed only the cosmic lovers:
Ranginui, the Sky Father draped in galaxies, and PapatÅ«Änuku, the Earth Mother cradling life.
They embraced in an eternal confluenceāso tight was their union that their children, birthed in that darkness, knew neither air nor light, only the weight of their parentsā sorrow.
In the suffocating blackness between them, the childrenāTÄne, TÄwhirimÄtea, Tangaroa, Rongo-mÄ-TÄne, Haumiaātiketike, TÅ«matauenga, and many moreāwhispered of light, air, and breath. Their fatherās pain echoed in dew on fields. Their motherās silence lay heavy like mist. Something had to change ļæ¼ ļæ¼.
TÅ«matauenga, the warrior, spoke first, urging the children to slay their parents to free themselves. But his brother TÄne, the forest, had other plans. He saw eden in the dark womb and vowed instead to separate them, to carve room for life and story ļæ¼.
Many tried. Tangaroa, the sea, pushed. Rongo and distant Haumia joined. Still, Rangi and Papa held. Then TÄne lay on his back, legs braced beneath the sky, and with all his strength he pushed. With a groan of sorrow and a cry of surprise, Ranginui was flung upward and PapatÅ«Änuku sank downwardāLight entered the world for the first time ļæ¼.
TÄne stood between them, planting wooden pillars to hold them apart, and breathed life into the world. The elders trace that as Te Wehenga, the primal separation, that made all lifeāand kinshipāpossible ļæ¼.
But the separation came at great cost. TÄwhirimÄtea, who loved his parents too much, could not forgive the deed. He flew into the sky, rallying storms, wind, and rage against the world belowāforests scattered, seas roared, cultivated fields faltered ļæ¼.
Yet life endured. Tangaroaās childrenāthe fishāfled the tempests. Humans found shelter in whÄnau. Rongo and Haumia offered peace and food. TÄne nurtured forests. TÅ«matauenga protected humanity with his resilience. In the clash of elements, the world found path and balance ļæ¼.
Still, Rangiās sorrow was not forgotten. His tearsāraināblessed the soil. Papaās exhalationāmistākissed the morning earth. HineākÅpÅ«āmarama, the dawn, rose between them with every new day, marking their enduring love across space and time ļæ¼.
This is our whakapapa. The sky and earth are not enemiesāthey are ancestors, divided yet eternally bound. We walk in that light, between them, shaped by the legacy of separation and the wisdom of renewal āØ
Every line of ink can hold a legacy ā which atua would you carry into battle with you?
