A poem to Ulupalakua and Kanaio Maui 6/11/22

I know you.

I feel for the stories kept hidden in the sharpness of your formations. 

Bones scribe your offerings into shapes of the Earth—

But I can’t read the messages through the fog of my tears.

Heart longs to know what

happened here—

Running down the mountain without a care in the world of who we decimated.

We extinguished ourselves.

Spilling love from a broken heart.

Belly fires meeting the crash of the ocean.

Who am I? 

A blazing wildfire stuck under the surface of your skin. 

The one you left weeping in the field of thorns that used to bloom roses.

I look after the sunset to make sure you’re still in awe.

I bathe in the moonlight to seek what’s real.

I do my best to soak it in—

No matter 

how beautiful 

the truth of it stings. 

I sing the griefs and beauty of an old exile and a new beginning. 

You think I don’t know you—I drink in the sparkles of your sand 

like medicine. 

Come back.

Here.

The land 

re-members.