Do you have the time?
time to bend
hairy fiddlehead ferns and ask her secrets;
“unfold yourself,” you speak, the echoes
rich against the Manoa waterfall.
It’s time to watch
masses of tiny crimson flowers drape
lazy, swirling together in hot summer dance,
these monkey tails, these chenille plants, such
a similar tango to our own
through the forests of inland O’ahu.
What time, did you ask?
Time to crouch behind the
camo-print Mindanao gum tree, all of us in
delight with color and mystery
in the sunlight Day.
Here—hold out your palm.
Feel the taunt skin of
the pink strawberry guava, as big as
a bouncy-ball; taste how supreme
it is, how rich and not acidic. We could eat
the lot of them, and fall back against
a forest of Indian banyan trees
for a doze amidst the drippy roots.
Taste it all; smell the erotic scent of
flowery decay, wet moss against mud stones
the waterfalls slipping everywhere.
The trumpets of yellow tecoma
call us all here, as the billowy Rainbow
shower trees fall from the fairy’s wand.
All we have is Time.