So much to contemplate, days
without distraction save the pattering
and drumming of rain and more rain
upon metal roof, wind in absentia
selling short the hurricane;

Time alone in a storm differs
from time alone by intent, the former
leaving one feeling trapped and dodgy,
removing liberty from the equation,
stifling as the heavy wet atmosphere,
leaving one to wonder at illusions,
fascinations, human dramas
of desire and repulsion;

If granted all wishes, a day would
become simply a day, choices not
near equal to the gifts of Creation;
for a time we might languish then
grow fidgety, longing for something
other, even this water seeping
from heavy skies;

If we could fabricate weather, who
or what then to blame when yet new
circumstances beyond our control
creep up to tap us on the shoulder,
prompting questions to the lips,
spinning us round and round
until, exhausted, we finally lean
into surrender?

Social media capture of the highway that intersects our street.

Hapuna Beach as I have never seen it and as few have – no people, just a crescent of white sand.

Body surfers outside Kamana Kitchen cafe in Kona town.

Kohala Mountain Rd. heading toward Mauna Loa volcano and Waimea town.

Mahukona Park lonely tree, so called.

Sunset shot taken from Kapaa Park trail.

~All photos save the first, ©Bela Johnson