Generations
pass, the story remains.
Some calloused
and some smooth are these fingers,
The dark hands
painting pictures of sacred
Stones, magical
lands stretching to the sea.
Voices quieted, hush,
only drums now.
Beats the pahu, steady and strong, hands up.
She begins
first, a leader of the dance,
A teacher of
tradition, we follow.
Journey to mauka, first destination.
Feet and pahu drum in sync, together
Carving an
ancient tale of older years,
A story that
trickles down mountainsides.
Echoing through
the valley is a chant
Honoring Hi`iaka, glorified
Goddess of Hawai`i we praise you here.
Body travels now
to makai, ocean.
Speaking of a
forceful eruption that
Sent slithering,
a hot lava river.
Pele empties into the sea, steam rose,
She is enraged,
burnt is a charred path.
Portrayed with
limbs are these stories of old,
Of my ancestors
and the ones before,
Of Gods, of a
life now lost amidst war.
Through
language, movement, we share with you.
From fingertips
to toes, disciplined to
Preserve, maintain
a lifestyle of riches.
Wealth in the
form of land, grounds royalty
Marched upon,
shed blood to protect from pain.
More than simply
a dancer, we tell of
Hawai`i, pure, truthful, we are Hula.
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