in the gentle trade winds
in the grunt of the wild
boar, the high-pitched mating call of the coqui.
I see them
in the blood moon
the double rainbow
in the mist against the folding
emerald cliffs of the Ko'olau.
I taste them
in the freshly caught pan fried mahi-mahi
a tropical papaya
tangy mango.
I smell them in
the white gardenia
the orange blossoms
the plumeria I place behind my ear.
I feel them buzzing
my ankles
scurrying sideways in the white sand
between the sharp coral
in the gentle rain.
They watch as I wait for you to return safely.
They watch the dogs chase
after wild chickens
the koi feed on fat
mosquitos.
The bullfrogs sing.
They watch
They accept.
They smile.
They
are here with me
the
‘Aumakua, guardian ancestors
rooted
in the past, the first of their generations.
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