Friday, April 24, 2015

Halema'uma'u ~ House of Everlasting Fire

Fireworks of the deep earth
Island expanding
Challenge our sensibilities
With your mystic molten rock oceans 
Blood of the planet
Show us the workings of your heart
We hear your deep voice 

From my home just down the human roadway
I stay tuned to your rhythm
Listen for your changes in cadence
Rush off to be close

If I had your music within myself
There would be new symphonies
Expression of my gratitude 
To be alive in this time
When discovery through technology 
Forms a marriage with matters of the Spirit

In recognition of sacred spaces
We come to Kilauea 
Experience through more than human ears and eyes
What it is
Volcano that blooms in perpetual fire
As earth's plates move above it

Here now we are together 
Reaching ever further  
Beyond the veil of the undiscovered

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

These Voices

Wherever we look there is our trace
Not a mere shadow or footprint
An automobile on the sand
Eight hundred campfires in the valley
Valley of the smokes

We set aside public lands
And use them
And use them

Those whose sensibilities are anchored in lava
Old lava grown obdurate cold impassive
These have taken up banners
Grown a collective voice
A voice that cries and shouts
Angry voices of those long displaced

Oh hear our plea
It this the voice of the requiem?
Or will they stop the vision of those who want to see
all the way to edge of the universe?

Whales of winter go
They return to their other home
Every concert ends
We fly like the geese in patterns we know
To places we understand

We are vast numbers with needs that stretch
horizon to horizon
water from the sky made to go to
vast pools those who cared for the land
cried out destruction of the temple
Mirror or valley
Water for a city or riverbed?

Each of us has displaced those who came before
leaving footprints in the ash

Know these truths
When we gather in our cities
We all drink the water from the reservoir
And if we are to understand how this all began
There are not already enough telescopes

Earth Day April 22 2015 Hawaii Island 
photo from San Francisco Examiner
Hetch Hetchy Reservoir 

Monday, April 20, 2015

Sacred Forest, Homage to the Mountain

If it was my personal ancestors
Whose footsteps came before mine
Here on this ground atop the mountain
I do not know about it

And yet I feel them here
All those whose breath still has faint traces
In the air I breathe
All whose weight upon the ground
Was light by choice
claiming little or nothing as theirs alone

I do not think of the ancestors as mine
Not my people and not your people
But we, and us, all who came before
If you go back far enough
you will find the ones we all share

I am not talking about some primal couple
But that certain couple whose act of love
made it possible for both you and me
to breathe this air

But let me still talk about the ground
This ground where I walk
This sacred ground made sacred because
I call it such
And you too may call it sacred
And you too many walk upon the moss and decadence
of fallen ferns and leaves converted
to reddish yellow and brown strands
filaments of mycelium

For this is the fabric of the sacred forest
Mycelium binding earth and plant, holding each and every
rooted living thing in place
forming the earth skin
Living skin of the sacred planet
Beneath all our feet

Saturday, April 11, 2015

E aha ‘ia ana o Mauna Kea

They want to build the world's largest telescope on the tallest mountain
It is tallest when you measure from its base on the floor of the ocean
Taller than Everest

This telescope will see almost to the beginning of time
because when we look out we are looking back

So far not even the world's largest telescope will show us
something that has not yet happened

But still and all time moves in all directions
It moves over there to your grandmother's great great grandchildren
It moves here to the time someone left the water on
And every drop was drained from the city
It ran out into the gutters and found the bay and eventually the ocean
Which became less salty then

Here is another direction for time
Let it take you around the bend
into the era of lilac colored jacaranda trees
purple flowers carpeting the ground beneath your feet
yellow pants under scarlet dresses
pale woven lauhala hats on smiling men
dancing with Fred Astaire flair

See the hula moving back in time to the lost Chiefess
Clinging to the ways of far back
Where women could not partake of food with men
Where you a common person would be put to death
Should you tread upon the shadow of the ali'i
See her fight to the end of life rather than move forward
When her culture shifts

Look now upon the faces of the earnest people
People who claim the mountain
People for whom the telescope is a terrible thing
It will be too big, and there are too many telescopes, they say
They call the mountain Sacred
It is about the culture of a lost kingdom
Brought forward in time despite suppression
reborn in the realest of senses
as fire impaling water in pentatonic scales
glass forest sublime golden waves
ancestors with sharp rows of teeth riding the azure waters

On the mountain Kilauea I sit within walls
constructed of a torn down church
I hear the choir singing oftimes when the late rains fall
anthems of seeking that which is on high

Look out here, see Mauna Kea, the link between heaven and earth
Mauna Kea, the mountain that longs to see everything
as far back as possible
is this not why she has thrust herself up
and become the bridge to all that is not
of this earth

E aha 'ia ana o Mauna Kea
What is going on with Mauna Kea
White Mountain reaching ever farther into the sky
May you touch the stars and tell us where we all came from
Show us our beginnings
Help us find the rest of us in the vastness of all there is
Mauna o Wakea

Saturday, April 4, 2015

swirls and curls

In the deep of the night
they awakened me
the haunting breezes
drawing in dimensions
upon my arms and face
I exposed a leg
to their attentions
deciphering the spirit language
much as when I touch my dog
grateful intentions
caresses of the air
pulled slumber over me
blanket alive as ocean
gentle as mist

Wednesday, April 1, 2015


There they are now on the rumpled bed
Lying like comma and apostrophe
My two German Shepherd Dogs
Radar ears pointed up and out
One faces me the other the door
As if asleep except those ears

Their master is off on a mission
Their being in the world is to stay close to me
If I sit too long they will prod me up
big faces under my arms urging me up and away
They never leave me alone in bed
Unless I am fully awake

I hear her breathing now
Soft exhalations
Her eyes are wide open
She can hear my thoughts
How intense their hearing is
She happy to be noticed and written about

She may be a dog
But her wishes are like ours
Content to feel she matters
Ready always to do whatever is needed
Robust character, gentle soul