I saw a crescent moon,

a white owl whose head was light,

spiraling invisible as breath

toward the silver rays.

I watched through an open window

near Keauhou, on the island of Hawai`i,

as the Cheshire cat moon

traveled across the black bowl of sky.

I took a walk to feel you

under the smae moon,

in another place and time,

passing through singing patches of crickets.

I sat down to watch the stones

placed precisely to form an ancient Hawaiian wall,

and in them I saw fire from generations -

life's flames and embers.

I remembered my childhood friends

and fields of fireflies,

dandelion wreaths for our hair

as we played with

and wondered at the meaning

of captured wild turtles.

The blue heat of December

belied the clouds building in the western sky.

I fell asleep with troubled visions,

your eyes seemed lonely and fading.

Early the next morning

I faced the east,

waiting for the red eye of morning

to open and greet the day.

I enjoyed conjugating the colors of dawn,

deciphering the shadows,

following the tidal flow of light on leaves,

recalling the turtles' recurring spirit.

I am still surrounded

by the stones of the ancestors,

laughing and crying.

I sometimes see myself come back

as an echo from another's eyes

I accept the dancing mask

that wants to wear me.

Suddenly ribbons of happiness

fade to tragedy

as I realize that morning vision can become

the shattering of many mirrors

and hearts.