at the beginning of a new day,
the sky murky with a curtain
of cloud

the color of mourning doves
cooing the morning into
being,

I can look mauka, behind me,
to the mountains, morning
misted,

hear birds peep and squawk
and chortle the day into
being.

But my eyes are always drawn
makai, to the unceasing sea
whose waves

have traveled an unfathomable
distance to froth the shore,
and to our nearest star

appearing on the far horizon,
not yet blazing, always delighted
to see it again

beginning to warm this dewy
earth on which I stand, silently
rooting for its survival,

this precious blue marble rotating
on an axis none of us can divine,
propelling you and me

and everyone we’ve ever loved,
and those before and after us,
slowly around our sun,

forever and ever,
let it be so,
amene.