manu o ku
salty gusts, entrust the gift of flight
neither day, nor night just time
endless currents of change,
navigate us to the present
but what of origins?
endemic to these skies,
my ancestors left clues
of the past
and of a compass,
demarking land for watchful peoples
navigators of the sea
as stars crossed in a steady arch,
islands connected
my genealogy speaks
of white feathers, painting the canvas of history
the truth lain, a mystery
but I’ll chirp this story
a glory; a sovereignty, spoken
sustainable and held in common
until, like many tales…
trust was broken
an abdication, as flocks watched on
a position, strong
songs written
captive in one’s own home
and above the empty palace
today we roam
endangered but protected
by fragile words as gentle birds
of pray