Birds sing your rising,
a crescendo of light worship
pulls you over the rim, 
joyous sound spreads across the land
before your arrival,
perhaps even across stretches of ocean.
Fish and sea creatures reach the surface
to dance in the turn of the earth.

Once we waited on the beach in silence,
waiting for you at Kumukahi,
the eastern most point on Hawaii,
where two forces of ocean converge,
we climbed over rocks in semi-dark to greet you,
the moon was still paper-thin
on the edge between sky and sea.
There, with toes in sand,
a brief down-pour of fat drops of rain,
a pod of dolphins like shadows glistened across waves,
we chanted, welcoming a flicker of gold-orange,
like a pathway, from the horizon to the shore where we stood. 
We embraced each other as you rose,
our eyes wide and bright with rapture
reflected you.