Kundalini Splendor

Twelve Ways to Lose Your Head on Maui
I.
Piercing the clouds, fingers
of sunlight caress the valley floor.
The Iao Needle stands, its immense
quiet crushing.

II.
Staring blindly out the window,
no work getting done –
a stolen moment when silence
has stolen me.

III.
Reading, I shiver in the Upcountry chill.
Already old in the new year, the island
and I shiver
and grow still.

IV.
Baldwin Avenue meandering to Paia
beneath an empty sky,
cane fields
surge in the sun.

V.
At the altar: Breath
aglow in my throat.
Golden treacle pools
upon my heart.

VI.
The path to Twin Falls, dusty
between my toes. Ginger points
to the upper pool. Fallen guavas
float downstream.

VII.
Hana Highway, pausing
at each bridge to let traffic pass.
Around the bend –
endless ocean.

VIII.
Fasting on Saturday –
empty stomach, empty head.
Time spreads
into stillness.

IX.
Cinnamon-red and blue, a pheasant stares
through the window. Michele
calls me, whisper. I see them
see each other.

X.
In the cave among the eucalyptus
up Alae Road – a fine seat
for a city boy
playing sadhu.

XI.
In bursts of wingbeats
a cardinal darts by. The red
bird finds himself lost
among the red proteas.

XII.
The sun setting beyond
Ma’alaea Harbor. The golden ocean,
I see, drinks the tired eye in.
I am gone.

copyright, Ivan Granger