Poem: Make Crops, Not War!

 

Make Crops, Not War!

From Aotearoa, far and wide,
Came a god of peace, so no need to hide.
With kūmara as his grand delight,
He keeps our tummies full at night.

His carvings stand with moko bold,
A digging stick he loves to hold.
No six-pack abs, no warrior’s spear,
Just farming skills and lack of fear.

While Tūmatauenga fights and swears,
Rongo's chilling… No war, no cares.
"Let’s plant some yams!" he tells the land,
And peace breaks out just as he planned.

He talks to gods, and he calls the rain,
So crops will grow and ease our pain.
Forget your swords, just grab a hoe,
And let the sweet potatoes flow!

Yes, this is Rongo, who is kind and grand,
The chillest god across the land.
No battle scars, no mighty roars,
Just farming vibes and zero wars!


- Kasper F. Christiansen


Some great points are given here. Might be a god worth praying to.

I hope you enjoyed this poem.

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