Haleakala

Sun speaking whispers around mountains ire

Licking tendrils of blessed opalescence caress languid lines

Rolling waters reach into the earth...deeper with every stretch

Grasping...release, relinquishing, with hands full of salty loam...clean

Dig that ire, the breath of sweet dawn hot on the cheeks of solemn

Traveler's eyes...clear skies.

Awakening the souls of symphony for a resolve to be examined afore Eden.

Turbulent tangles of forested fauna languish about adjacent juxtaposed

Crags, volcanic jubilance from a time long ago, the activity sleeping but

Not lost...No...Just resting.

Winding through the miasma of colorific splendor finds a distant kind

Of Nirvana, now walking in the fields of Hana untoward a silent kings

Ardor, that palatial citadel with the audacious auspice to house within

Sun...Our new outlook on God.

Touching the tendrils of fire...Licking the corners and curves just beyond Eden...

Adam and Eve spent the night here once but only just to conceive

...The embrace...divine...

An odyssey no serpent could revile or even entreat divergence from the holy words of

His grace.

A new kind of season in the land of Hana Lea, frolicking in the autumn mist...A silent

Dragon rests fitfully crowning glory above.

Both serpentine and divine the elegance of which determined by the guile of subjects

Residing in the valley below.

Within center citadel, surface the semblance of the Moon, desolation reminiscent of the

Death of Christ held within the breast of mountain king only revealed to those with the

Urgency to look.

Turning around outward the gift of Christ's sacrifice rolls down the mountain towards

Infinity,

An example of the glory of God plainly lay afore the pious of the meek...

...And so therefore is our inheritance...

...A subtle glory...

Profound.