HAU'POLILA HANAU IA KUME KEALA CHING MOUNTAIN ROAD SCENIC POINT
'UHALOA
by Michael Foley
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HAUʻOLI LĀ HĀNAU IĀ KUMU KEALA CHING This year began like 19 others at ‘Alula waist deep tearing strips of kī like green threads undone from the best or the worst of our lives lived in two worlds you’re there on the edge of the reef chanting we’d gathered earlier on the shoreline with our rainwater chanting he ulu o luna the call for growth you gave us a call so simple I can repeat it now six months into this long pause this collective withdrawing from touch and gathering this retreat that’s given us clear oceans and skies for the first time in generations is this the gift you keep asking us to know in order to give? this is the day the world received you someone who listens someone in whom the trust is mended and the grip held on these islands loosened turned inside out elemental stories awoken retold you’re not afraid to tell them to compose songs chants dances with a smile and pass them on no one turned away life death and every human endeavor in between worth blessing you bless give permission to embrace above below night day sight desire power e ola! I see thousands of strangers wait for you to open their festival in Kailua-Kona hundreds move like a wave across the dance floor in Zurich for your hula see small gatherings of kupuna follow you into the water and move their hips share their laughter Kohala’s own kupuna hula kumu rediscover her mother’s voice through you my own world seemed to fall apart and I came to you instinctively only to hear you say I’d know what to do and you were right tonight I will raise my glass to you grateful to come across your path grateful for your extended hand |
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MOUNTAIN ROAD, SCENIC POINT Up on the mountain road where clouds are born riding on the heat of the land my windshield’s wet a respite from long dry days thirsty trying too hard it’s a time of listening because Mauna Kea’s hidden Mauna Loa invisible Hualālai a mystery this dance traces from memory the coastline penetrates the mist with a thought dressed up as fingertips that’s how it is sometimes telling a story about a world we can’t see we turn to coordinates recorded on the pages of that inner atlas so what if the audience chatters downhill through the quiet verses 18 wheelers decompressing through the music just another challenge for your sense of perfection is that what this tightness in the throat and chest is all about pulling over to let the eyes follow the slopes all the way to Kawaihae a ghost in sunlight but up here cigarette butts tell their own story people stopped for all kinds of reasons surprised perhaps by the cool air the silence between engines ascending descending that curve cut through the slope not much to see today we hear them say with only the foreground in view lovers’ voices tumble through like resurrected streams after a rain arguments surrender to reason taking the foot off the gas putting it in park sandwiches sodas dregs emptied on the side feet dangling onto the ground tripping over the high curb on the way to the narrow verge of dense soft carpeted grass how many minutes out of the car drawn to the light of vista and panorama like little moths but on a day like this looking down at their feet turning back to their rentals on the move again why do I think if I stay longer say the rest of my life I’ll see these clouds grow up raise kids of their own |
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ʻUHALOA Under the flight path our eyes touch the bellies of aircraft descend like gods like the futility of the way things are in this pandemic we know the seats above us are empty as we sit here earthbound across from each other on the edge of Wawaloli shoreline celebrating your birthday on a picnic table laden with patina of countless other meetings how the usual is now forbidden in these early days of social distancing isolation self- quarantine to prevent the spread of the virus neither one of us wear the requisite mask or gloves but we don’t kiss cheeks or hug that much is given up for the cause of this silent revolution and any silences we might have filled between us before now fall like weightless feathers something to look at as it catches the light for once just being here at Wawaloli is enough the rest can’t be explained refuses analysis it is enough you liked how small are the leaves of the maile lei it’s enough you brought me ʻuhaloa leaves harvested for tea and also the oil you made and food in case I hadn’t eaten and frozen shots more than enough for a birthday you wanted to meet for sunrise on the mountain but the roads are closed against gathering where will the crisis end we risk coming here two friends sharing a moment outside in the open for me the greater risk is stepping into the distance inside it’s the magnetic pull that brought me here keeps bringing me and yet it’s a longing I don’t recognize something so very old and new at the same time it’s this that scares me on the way to our cars you point out ʻuhaloa growing wild in the verge |
