Ka Moe Lumi

Standing on black
sole-cutting lava field,
nursing stubbed toe.
Lava doesn't give:
it takes.
Watching steam plume as magma
incinerates the sea -
in the moment,
a world away from everything.

Text dings and I am caught
by surprise. 'Call
asap. don't worry, the dog is fine.'
No signal. Dog is fine?
What isn't?
I'm six time zones away
in the middle of the Pacific ocean--
nothing I can do from here.

Hours (lifetimes?) later I hear
seventy mile an hour winds leveled
back yard sixty foot trees
and our screen room. But
the dog's okay. We'll be home in a week.
Make required calls sipping maitais on the beach.

Arrive home in the dark, can't really see.
Morning shocks vacation to mere memory--
glow fades under insurance quotes. But the dog
is happy and the house itself isn't damaged.
Jet lag greys reaction as adjusters hem and haw
and the roof leaks. On distant island lava
still pours into the ocean:
Madam Pele is unconcerned.

Three season room with cathedral ceiling
to replace what once was.
We start calling the potential room the Maui room:
designing around a desire to return
to paradise. We quickly rename it:
Ka Moe Lumi - the dream room.
Old dreams are replaced by new
as focus shifts--
we make room for a piece of heaven
brought home in heart and mind.
Meanwhile,
the dog goes out, has a new path for morning wander.
The wind chimes are retrieved, rehung.
We have a clear, tree-free view of evening sun displays.

On Maui we sat and watched
the sun set over Lanai.
Now we watch it set over
the neighbor's backyard
we barely saw before. No waves
crash here, only trees and screen rooms.
It appears we shall continue to adjust our view.
We add a free standing fireplace to the design:
we shall have plenty of wood to fuel it
while we feed new dreams.