Birthquakes

If I were to sweep, it would never end; this precious earth has only begun to burn and swirl and blow away the flimsy trappings, human footprints laid down along shorelines expanding now beneath helicopter eyes, unable to peer further under Pele’s fiery skirts;...

Quietude

There’s a sound in the house, a resonant thrum in the house we reside in, the home we created, a throb, a buzz, a tone which, when absent, defines utter silence; the nothingness present during times when power lines cease their humming, now the only competition with...

Plume II

Rising phoenix-like from the core of our Mother, she gathers shards of herself into long, sinewy fingers pointing straight or now diverging into strands of molten marvel, goddess breadth of hips dancing, swaying, undulating ribbons of pāhoehoe folding in and over the...

Buried Alive

Not unusual, this Tuesday. I hop on my bike and head downhill toward the vast indigo ocean with Maui shimmering across the channel, verdant rolling fields a parenthesis between me and the sea. I fondly regard the local dairy’s towering wooden silo alongside...