Interesting that iArrive to read Brother John's obituary before I clean the first harvest of kalo fr my backyard up at Mailepai. Definitely, a no non-sense fellow yet warm with "aloha." He was always eager to pick my brain as I am with cleaning the kalo in a few minutes, but this is the time to reflect, to give tribute, to give a 'lyrical hug' (if iMay).
"Mind in a Cave" you shared with me
and iStill have it
"Wind in my hair" as we flew w/o fear
in your convertible
"Kind on the road" as you all picked up, late at night
at the side of the road
i . . . stranger
you took me in
fed me
eager to talk
more eager to to listen
to learn
.
Your mind is not in a cave
but a kalo corm . . . nestled in a native pool
in the na'au of Nāpilihau
grown sturdy until your last hā
Your mind is not in a cave
. . . the wind has settled between the strands of my tangled hair
as iBegin to lovingly carve the corm's rough exterior
and iWill remember
as moments spent w/ you sir
neither shared our deepest talent,
your bagpipe , and my hula
both steeped in our individual heritages
Our minds are not in a cave
we have developed,
we have improved
our ancestor's rituals
. . . you are one of a kind!
in present tense, b/c to me
you are still alive
your hā remains
as my aloha to you
"How the heck were you able to know it was me?"
iWonder
as walked on a dark road, late at night
where Bus #35 does not extend to
but thousands flock to when Pē'ahi's surf is up
now iReturn to clean kalo in the dark
for there's no electricity
but power in this poetic maile lei
before iClean and pa'i the kalo
. . .interesting that iHave arrived to read this
Sunday, September 24, 2017.
A hui hou Brother John.
