I am appalled once more, at what I heard, when we returned to our shores.
A rancor, clamor and discordance, like captive farm animals, rather than free men.
Yet in the middle of it ring our voices, the ones that make a heart rise and my tribe is recognized, even as a voice in turn rings out: “Not my tribe” to those others, and I turn away in response.
The stark sound of it wakened me, and I recognized it as being the voice of my own heart.
We become what we connect to.
Let mine be with the sea, and the voice of God who moves upon the waters, the echo of which is found in all life.
Aloha oe.
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“Rancor”…what a fabulous, descriptive word. A word I needed to hear right now. Aloha Oe.
This is such beautiful fluid poetry– visually and in script.
Dean
Dean, whenever I run across a note from you, it tends to tear me up. This is why. The brotherhood we share by virtue of our experiences in the Oceans is a bond that matters so much, and when you touch base in this fashion, it reminds me about what matters. I need that! Many mahalos!