You are the breeze from this sea,
Wayaway, eastwind, giver of an element
That moves me. It is the crack of dawn
And this dream caught me so while you
Take things in stride, caress the plumeria
Leaf by my window, in this cold of winter.
By the Makakilo mountains, there
You are now and dancing to the tune
Of whizzing lives, on their cars to put in time
For the big men in Waikiki. The whole rite
Is to put food on the table, and this becomes
A repetition the way you leave me so.
The cold gets to my stranger’s bones,
Making me tarry to say this prayer
One more time in the corner altar of my day:
Do not leave me wind, breath
Air, breeze. Stay, stay longer and whisper
To me the definition of Honolulu morning
And the means to the ceremony of going
Through another celebration of the word
Coming onto a page, this one about
Our pains. Today, we launch yet another
Chance to hear our own voice. We say it louder,
Clearer this time. We need to hear what we say.
Like the daybreak, we see it coming,
And soon is the noontime segueing
Into the sacred hours of our exilic becoming.
Wayaway, eastwind, become our
Amian, our northwind, and fill our hearts
With a song no one wants to sing.
Call out to the Abagat, tell it to reside
In our drunken nights, and make us sober,
Alert to the lullabies of the Pangagdan,
So there, with the amber sun setting, we get
The fulfillment of a new rainbow’s dream
For which reason we gather again.
Dec 5, 2011/ At the launching of 'Panagtaripato: Parenting Our Stories, Our Stories As Parents'