I was strolling out there on the edge
of the world
or so it seemed to me
walking that beach
On Ke’e
where our nation meets the end
of land, the end
of sand
the far edge of that ancient island
where Wai’ al’e al’e had flung his first
lava up into the blue depths of
Pacifica
out there in the middle of nowhere
where long ago tectonic plates had parted
had given right-of-way to magma
spewing from the center of the earth.
It’s a place where you feel the gravity
of death
knowing you could dive into Pacifica
and float all the way to China
or somewhere over there
the other side of the world
maybe wake up dead
before the sharks could have you for dinner.
Yes, looking now up at that sheer cliff
high above me on the edge of Napali coast
where Wai ale’ ale had had
his first fling with Pele
when ancient Alii kings and queens had
walked upon these islands
making kapu proclamations
for Hawaiians to live and die by
until that fateful day at Waimea
down there on the south shore
where Waimea River flows into Pacifica
that fateful day when Captain Cook
sailed into the esturary
bringing wonders from a so-called
civilized world
and a way of life that assigned a different place
for the Alii
And now here I am
contemplating the crack
that changed that world
assigning royals to a different place.
It’s an island where I feel death from on high
when gazing up at Wai al’e al’e
and his/her companion peaks
along the ancient spine of Kauai
shrouded in misty mystery
casting streams down to the sea
from whence Puff and Jackie had sailed
back in the day.
But now,
looking back down, here on Ke’e
there I am in the present again
gazing at this crack
and someone had carved:
Alii
Then I remembered
Queen Elizabeth died a week ago today.
What would Captain Cook do now?
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