Poet & Professor Selina Tusitala Marsh, the inaugural Commonwealth Poet Laureate, a professor of literature and creative writing at the University of Auckland, co-director of the Centre for Arts and Social Transformation, and the author and illustrator of the bestselling Mophead series, debuted her poem Commonwealth Quilt at the Commonwealth Day Service at Westminster Abbey on Monday, 9 March 2026.
A decade after her 2016 performance for Queen Elizabeth II, Selina Tusitala Marsh returned to deliver fine words to the two reigning British monarchs, King Charles III and Queen Camilla, and dignitaries from around the world:
Selina Marsh, the inaugural Commonwealth Poet Laureate, delivers a powerful performance of her poem ‘How to Make a Commonwealth Quilt.’ Through vivid imagery and thoughtful words, she reflects on how the many cultures, histories and voices of the Commonwealth come together like pieces of a quilt. Her performance celebrates creativity, storytelling and the shared threads that unite people across nations, highlighting the richness and diversity of the Commonwealth community.
C o m m o n w e a l t h Q u I l t 🧵🪡🧶🏽🪢𖣯🖼️
Tell me your line —
The one you were born to
The one you walk through
Bloodline
Songline
Shorelne
Stoneline
The line your body draws when it dances
The line the rising sea now crosses
You do not have to mend
You do not have to know where this all ends
Just bring what you were handed
Frayed, faded, abandoned —
And lay it down
Bring your gold. Bring your grief. Your yet-to-be told stories
Your belief
Lay them here — stone and silk
This is how we make a Commonwealth quilt
Find the rising. Find what the sea swallows
Bring paopao-paddle Tuvalu, my standing stars
Nine islands, nine prayers, nine ways to say ‘we are’
Bring Samoa, Tusitala — my mother the siren
I open my mouth, her tide rolls in
Bring Wadadli Antigua, Barbuda’s frigates fly home
Ackee-split Jamaica, reggae from the womb
Find the root. Find what was once severed
Bring kente-wrapped Ghana, sankofa — go back and fetch
The door of no return. The door of no regret
Madiba’s long walk. South Africa, Ubuntu born
I am because we are
A small hand unfurls in a bigger one
Find the thread. Find what fingers have spun
Bring Bollywood India. Not just cinema, but dharma
Dhoni-sail Maldives, cabinet meeting underwater
The reef — spawning, flowering, luminous laughter
Find the edge. Find where the mending starts
Bring Lefkara-lace Cyprus, salt-wound through the heart
Aphrodite rises to stitch the line apart
United Kingdom — lion, thistle, dragon, shamrock, throne
The king’s crown of jewels
The carpenter’s crown of thorns
Every wound becomes an edge
Every edge, a place to thread
When the chill comes —
And the chill always comes —
What will you thread?
I like to imagine that her presence was a breath of fresh air amongst the deadpan attendees; highly likely to be entrenched in stringent bureaucratic/royal procedures, many would have realised mid-verse that missing from their lives was a creative and wise Tusitala (tale teller). The architecturally gothic Anglican church echoes truths and untruths alike hoping the former outlives the latter, and then there are some voices that when they speak, the walls do not chatter over and over because they are listening to hope return. Thank you, teacher, way to keep it real.
An addendum, for your consideration:
Bring dairy New Zealand
Baa-baa black sheeps of the world’s maps, yes we have wool
Bring rich Papua New Guinea
Petroleum, gold, copper, oil
Accepting donations still
No? Not quite laureate material yet.
lit-b.com 