La’ie Mud Rhymes

I write for my friend Michael, 
who alone on our island 
had grace I could dive into. 
Boyhood buddy of beach-night bonfires, 
creosote, sage, and sand, 
mud on face and feet and hands, 
all-American Adonis, baptist, 
lean with a smile of simplicity 
and the face of a genius.  

“God is in the earth” he told me 
mirthfully from atop the mountain we conquered. 
I ran the way down to the sea 
through frangipani, fern, and banyan tree, 
feet bare, with freedom, 
Michael ran behind me.  
Plop of feet in the mud of God 
humidity drip from the lilikoi leaves 
tangy iron gnarled sod 
til we reached the sandy beach 
aglow in the twilight. 
Mud rhymes, 
chimes, twinkling off the mountainside 
off the waves in our island paradise. 
Innocent seaside savagery, 
            (hair bleached by saltwater and sun 
            blown by crisp hibiscus winds 
            drenched in the gold-blue waters of day,
            soaked in obsidian seas of night, 
            drowned in depths beyond my reach, 
            lost in jungles beyond my sight.) 
Sand between toes, blistered feet, 
laughter of many colors, 
we swam in oceans of light.  

Fever-broke, sunstroke, 
carnivorous cannabis kava-tea dreamscape; 
God spoke from the jungle where the taro grows, 
knock of hallow koa, booming off the sea 
tribal on the ridgelines, 
ferocity by torchlight; 
my eyes were made of fire.  
I ran primal, chest bare, careless but for hunger 
back up the mountain 
to far-flung wayfaring stars, 
            (arranged in trapezoidal constellations 
            mystic tropical emanations 
            geometric god-shapes twinkling in the night) 
to the luminescent pool atop the mountain 
incandescent beneath the crescent moon, 
calm water, and cool. 
Rhythmic vibrational surface 
aglow in green and orange and blue, 
universe phosphorescent in the depths, 
primordial intricacies of grace 
suspended in the inky infinite. 
            I shed myself, stood graceless 
                        and naked, submerged myself in it. 

Awake before atomic sunrise, 
we swam in oceans of silence 
I glared grief-stricken at the sea 
            for stealing god-sand away from the beaches 
            pulling our island away from beneath us 
                        spec by granular spec. 
I grabbed the silty God-sod mud 
clumped with salt and sand and weeds 
            (you sat there, smiling, but not for me) 
wind in the palms, fire in sky 
            I have hunted in my dreams 
            I have spread you into my eyes.