In May (two part poem) - By Hauoli Kahaleuahi

1.

If October is like a rainfall of orange, yellow and red,

Then May is the vision of sun rays that shower

Purple, green and pink.

Again, if October is like a scattered, unsolved puzzle,

A mystery abandoned on the forest floor,

Then May must be clarity,

An answer to the birth of Mother Earth.

Earlier today I saw

What my mind interpreted as a path,

My path,

Life’s path.

I was traveling it alone,

Or so I thought.

Trees to my left and right,

Darkness embedded between,

But I didn’t fear.

Some trees, off to my right,

Scattered and aging,

Rough, peeling skin splotched with shades of brown,

Seemed to resemble mistakes left behind,

Trailing in a wind.

And this too captures the end of an era,

Someone has passed.

Although death dances about this cemetery,

Weaving between headstones,

The land here isn’t head,

The aroma isn’t lifeless.

Here, spirits bounce and leap,

Bathing in the morning glow

That covers moist grounds.

A morning glow that reminds me of

Waking up by the sea,

Peering though the open flap to see,

To embrace God’s welcome.

My mind trails back to evenings

Atop hills,

Ones that glow in similar light.

Once in a dream

I was submerged.

Submerged but willing,

A force sunk me

But I did not squirm,

I did not fight.

I was made powerless.

The world under was familiar,

It was the sea.

2.

I never thought life could be so simple.

I never thought closing the gates

To an outer world was possible,

That by closing, leaving,

Turning my head to just face yours,

Yours alone,

Could solve what went unsolved

For years.

Believe me,

What happened next

Was the unexpected,

Too fast for the camera to catch,

Only few witnessed.

The worst thing you ever said to me

Was “I am disappointed”.

In eyes compassionate I could see

The serious gaze,

A stare that daunted my dreams.

These days I feel like

Giving up the reigns,

Not giving up,

Not ever,

But letting another take hold and grasp,

Possibly life or maybe you.

In their hands I will live,

I will dangle this way and that,

Freedom.

Listen…

Life,

A real life,

Is never consumed,

Corrupted

Or overrun.

Once in October,

I stood beneath stained glass windows,

Stood surrounded by reflections of

Red.

But its not October, its May.

Rainfalls of orange, yellow and red

Were stopped months ago.

In evenings,

Darkness is embedded between the growth,

The seasonal blessing

Of fruitful forests.