Two faces of Hina
a poem about the Polynesian Goddess of the moon
on nights of hooded whispers
when the tallest trees are bare of light
and the sleepy soil below is cool
the tides pull in their covers
the crawlers lie still
the fliers don't stalk
when the moon can't be seen
Hina is at rest so I should do the same
on nights of rowdy loudness
when lowly trees gleam and shine
and fertile earth is ripe to seed
the sea's ebb gives way to flow
the beasts awaken
love's honey sweet
when the moon's spotlight is on
Hina is creating so I will do the same
© M.Lee, All rights reserved, written on the night of Akua, when the moon is full.
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