Spirits

I hear their whispers in the gentle trade winds
in the grunt of the wild boar
the coqui frog
on a humid Kona night.

I see them
in the blood moon
the double rainbow
in the mist
against the folding emerald cliffs of the Ko’olau.

I see them in the iwa birds
circling the pink and white lily pads
or in the crystal blue bay
as the whales breach with their calves
coaxing them further out to sea.

I taste them
in the freshly caught mahi-mahi
a golden papaya
mango
banana.

I smell them in
the white gardenia
the orange blossoms
the plumeria I place behind my ear.

I feel them buzzing
my ankles
scurrying sideways in the white sand

between the sharp coral
in the gentle rain drops
the warmth of the sun,
the quiet cool of the morning.

They watch me
as I mow the lawn
pull weeds
water the flowers,

wait for you to safely return.

They watch as I prepare dinner
as the dogs chase after feral chickens
the Koi feed on fat mosquitos.

They watch
They consider
They smile.