Kupuna Hula

KUPUNA HULA

Last night the rain came in.
Lying there I knew that could have been us.
The way we met: land, cloud, their heat
exchanging day for night. It found me this morning
out here in the pasture getting ready
to tell this story, how we got this far
and step this way, sweep one foot across
the threshold, hold our arms out to each other
thus and thus. We turn one side. A hand flutters
close to the mouth. We’ve come this far, we say.
We give ourselves now to something words
can’t express. We have to say this with the knot
they tied at birth, circling, circling. We reach up,
maybe clouds, maybe stars in this story.
The knees give a little. Our eyes beckon to each other
across the distance. There’s mountains. Now there’s
a fierce hot stirring beneath our feet
but we shake our heads oh so lightly and smile.
We’ve left ourselves at the door. The windows
are all open. Everything’s spinning or holding strong.
We do this for each other, for our children, for the old ones.