Dedicated to Queen Lili’uokalani
And, For Lisa Vihos
Nu’uanu Pali was created for another day.
Gales of fog gust the lot of us;
Unless we fight it, we are almost away.
Along the path, from the limbering barks
So many drips damping us down.
Above, their crowning thrashes bewitched.
Achieving the cliff, huddled by a stone restraint,
What is there to see? Nothing–
The fog so thick it is a blind on the eyes,
A gag in the throat. And then,
And then the blind begins to lift,
As if there are ghosts who hold us hostage,
Gift a sight of their paradise to drive us mad,
Before they throw us over.
Mists thin to a veil which drifts discarded.
We view the molting mountainsides,
Inhabited hills. Beyond, but nigh,
An ocean wedded to its sky, so high.
It is a vision re-denied. Once again,
The vista goes opaque in the fog.
“Intruder.” Whispered by ghosts?
Or do I name myself.
At our feet, as if in another world,
A rooster and hen strut amidst bees,
Their chicks searching for feed.
Lively, they lighten the mood.
Perhaps, remembering, the ghosts desist.
In charity, they grant to each of us a clarity.
One sees the honey of a prize as simply this:
The stroll along a golden shore which curves
And curves, until it is a circle and complete.
Another wants to carve a magical rune
Into a candle; then, sit, and smell
The melting beeswax scent the night.
And I, to what do I aspire?
Witness. I see the generations,
Each a hexagonal vessel for stories,
Histories which form an island hive, Hawaii.
Who will guard this legacy of kings?
Queen Lili’uokalani sang the answer.
Brother, sister traveler, become an oracle,
Divine the queen’s soul.
Depart, but sing “Aloha Oe” to honor its composer.
Heed the sign: “Beware of BEES.” Be fierce.
Steven Golden
August 7th – August 9th
Revised, August 10th – August 14th, August 20th, 2018
stevengoldenpoetry 