6:30 AM in Hawaii.
Birds in a giant tree to the left of the villa sing to greet the rising light …. another one – larger, louder- pipes up just to the east; I think he’s on the jetti below my lanai
but he is invisible to me except for his clear, determined voice. I wonder if he will do this tomorrow. If he did this yesterday.
Watching the cool morning light stretching up toward the last star shimmering in a periwinkle sky,
now sinking into a dusty pink, then to a sunrise-to-the-east yellow, like cream on clouds that rest on the horizon …
is healing, full of grace.
In the dark below, a small fishing boat pulls away from its dock, gliding silently along a jetti.
Sipping coffee, I watch as it moves toward the sea.
Jetti locataires- palm trees and flowering bushes – are watching, too.
We watch together. The little boat reaches the ocean and shrinks away.
Inevitably the light pushes up, drowning the star and it’s periwinkle sky. Boats appear in lit slips, now visible, and the sun appears, looking more majestic than I remember it.
I must be in paradise.