September 25, 2010; revised December 1, 2013
From the fertile plain at Pukalini
you ascend the flank of Haleakala
through tall stands of shady koa
to white pine and pasture
scrub bush and boulder
silversword and cinder
sky, wind.
Into the
silence
of cold
light
and
piercing shadow
where psyche
shrinks
before
the stern truth
whispered
without words
in dawning thought
and gentle urge:
in dawning thought
and gentle urge:
You were given a garden
and precious days, numbered.
You do not belong here, but
linger, and count the colors
of gold in the sunset below
then descend through darkness
and while there is yet time
find your own fertile plain
to cultivate and sustain
each precious day
that still remains
as servant, helper
partner
friend.
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