A L O H A From
H O N O L U L U
During BON dance season
on Summer nights
we dance with our loved ones who
have passed.
During BON season -
they are near. There are many stories
of dead loved one's being glimpsed among the dancers, or making themselves known
in other ways.
Beneath soft lanterns’
amber glow,
Ancient steps
In circles flow.
Around the tower’s
wooden frame,
Musicians breath
Old songs into flame.
The shamisen
A gentle cry,
The taiko’s pulse
Touching the sky.
Neighbors weave
In twilight’s dance,
Sacred across
The timeless expanse.
Hands and feet in
Tradition's grace,
Echoing stories
Time can’t erase.
Here in aloha’s
Warm embrace,
Cultures blend
As hearts enlace.
Each year the bon dance
Calls us home
Living thread joined
To family spirits who roam.
Binding past
To present Here
With love that lingers,
Bright and clear.
Cloudia Charters
As you pile up the Summers, there probably are more and more of your friends and family who have gone to join the ancestors.
There is some comfort,
and more than a tint
of immortality, in
dancing with them.
Maybe they will
catch our eye
momentarily in the frenzy.
Maybe it's just some
resemblance or living memory
that we see in the
colored light - maybe not. . .
I felt it shelter
to speak to you.
Emily Dickinson
to speak to you.
Emily Dickinson
𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶𓏶
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