Pana Nō Ka Honua (The Earth Beats Too)
Honolulu, HI
2024, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
I was born out of trickery
Hooked by Maui, lies told to his brothers
To pull, huki, huki, with all their might
Breaking through the surface of the moana
They see not fish, but me
Severed from my reality
I was finally free
I could breathe
I was born
I was growing bigger each day
Molten limbs of lava, exploding orbs of light
Inching, creeping, stretching into the endless abyss
Flowing, streaming, weaving down slopes and valleys
Reaching desperately
Reaching for something
Reaching for someone
The abyss freezes my advances
I was growing
I was beautiful, seeds sprouting from my back
A home, a hale of life
My hair grew vines of green
Fruit oozing juices sweeter than a child’s soul
Island oasis attracting visitors of all shapes and sizes
Some came on wings, some on waves, some by wind
A beacon of lush emerald, shining in vast hues of blue
Though no human had set eyes on me
I was beautiful
Then, they arrived
Navigators of the horizon, canoes pierce through rolling swells
Haunting chants of native isles
From shoreline hamlets to lo’i, percolating with taro
Building, farming, thriving
Centuries of protected harmony
Shrouded in loneliness no longer
I was beautiful
They had arrived
I was at peace, providing for my people
Stewards, they cared for me in return
Mālama they said, pūlama they said
Suddenly the foreigners appeared
A stunning cloud jutting majestically from the horizon
Bringing men in lavish fashion, armed with fancy sticks
My people called them gods – akua
I was at peace
I would be at peace no longer
They swarmed in droves
Disease lay siege on my ‘ohana
Tattered striped cloths strewn atop my crown
Glorious days no longer
My people had fallen
To their ghastly sticks and putrid metal
I presided, a hale for the murderers of my people
The tragedy only just begun
They came in droves
Like my people, I am desecrated
My trees, putrid rot
My birds, silenced to extinction
My coral, bleached of color
My fish, suffocated by poison
My streams, iridescent of oil
My body used only for transport
My beaches used only as backdrop
I remain, desecrated
I am hideous
Your desire for more, always more, abuses me
And in turn, my paucity abuses you
For hunger is only ever satisfied
When one realizes they were never actually hungry
I am hideous
But I don’t have to be
Born out of trickery, I am the ‘āina
My heart beats too
Reflection
Reflection
Delicately balancing on my surfboard between sets, I am hit with the stark contrast. The sun glistens off the infinite shades of turquoise, swells leading to the uniform pale of sand then, just a few feet away, every shade of gray concrete, cracking sea walls that guard the endless hotels of Waikiki. I am told of different times – when earth nurtured man, and in turn, man deified earth. Since ancient times, Hawaiians were innately connected to the sea. The legend is that while fishing with his brothers, demigod Maui used his mystical hook to pull the islands out from the sea. I wonder, now, what the ocean and land would say to us. I imagine the anger, the frustration, the despair – if only the Earth had a voice and it could remind us, that it beats too.