Hoʻokupu to ʻĪao

ʻĪao carries me to those final days of November,

bathing in the fragrance of maile.

I follow her dancing footsteps along the path of warm pōhaku,

the pattern all to familiar to the her,

I watch as her gracile form finds each step.

Though time and distance parted us, 

we gathered the space between years 

and filled it with laughter and abundance. 

Days we spent in the shelter of ʻEʻeka,

greeting Puʻu Kāne and Kūkaemoku.

Moʻolelo flowed through us,

like the wai gathering around our waists,

and rolled off our tongues with ease.

moku ka pawa i Wailuku a welo ka lā i Olowalu

e hoʻi mai

– Kamaehukauikahano