The Taste of Tears
(for Harry Matau)

Peace,
My brother.
The blue water
Rises up against
The shore,
A whisper upon the
White shellstone marker,
Defining your life
In words etched to eternity.
I clasp the tiny white shells,
Stars of silence,
Remembrance,
Of honoring.
All is quiet here,
As it should well be.
Silent as the sheltering sky
That pulls blue from the sea.
Everything remains a paradise parched
Against oceans of stars
And light of home.

The shells speak to me,
Whisper nothing of regret.
Only time that
Has been taken
Perhaps too soon.
I do not
But you know,
My brother.
In the distance across aquamarine oceans
And sails of ancient stars
To where silence speaks louder
Than any words
Words that form whispers
Of the smallest
Aloha oe

Remember me.

Tears taste of salt.
Stung by sand
And sea water,
I close my eyes,
The water rushing around me
Taking my hair
Like a dark halo
Floating above me
As I whisper my
Goodbyes.
I release the shells
Stars and light
And pink in my palms
And I sing you release.

Oh, my brother,
We have no time for goodbyes.
Sending you home, to the
Dark vast oceans and
Cradle of the land you loved
I taste the tears upon our lips,
And know we can never
Return you back.
Our tears release you.
These shells release you.
From salt where you came,
To salt you shall return.
And I ask you,
My brother,
What are tears,
But salt and sorrow,
A crowning halo
Set dark against
The whispered prayers
Of those you left
Behind.