Hamakua: spirit animal, guardian

Ode to the Hamakua
The Primitive Song

Animal spirits howl,
Whistling in the winds of past progressions
Harsh seasons sweep seeds of life,
With faint recollections and lasting perceptions.
Impressionable sounds, molecular residue, dejavu, magical voodoo,
A polyphonic and harmonic, resonating tune.
As the mountain lion roars, humbles the tone, serenades the moon.
Strong sun,
Rays melting the morning fog of the unfinished night.
settled by lovers’ end,
Still, bowing clouds beyond the rolling plateaus
peeking above the horizon’ s morning light.
Timeless tales lost by impenetrable trails, tracks in the sand,
Footprints devoured by the changes of the land.
Animal spirits prowl
As wind gusts tumble hitch hikers down long dirt roads,
and the spring and autumn months segue with the sun,
new life and new earth transform for the wanderers of lust,
as the gatekeepers keep watch, stargaze into the heavens,
and yell down to us, “We are all One.”
Sharp sun,
As spirit fingers reach across the horizon,
And remind us of our souls’ inadvertent disguises.
The waterbearers, dreamseekers, deck hands, and forest dwellers work on,
With our able hands and feet,
We bend rays into rainbows with our pure and honest sight.
As martyrs between lust and reason, passion and trust.
We hold the key to the well-oiled machine
The strength of our song, and the passionate youth learn to sing,
Honoring the mountains facing a clear and sunny east.