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Reflections Upon Circles of Life with Daughter

Paul Haeder: Makena received its name when many people traveled and gathered there to collect coral for the building of the Po’okela Church in Makawao in the 19th century.

May 6, 1996 – In the Crucible of Passes and Pathways North, a Child Is Born, Rio Bravo, Rio Grande:

Makena is steeped in ancient Hawaiian mythology involving the fire/volcano goddess Pele. Jealous of the beautiful lizard maiden sunning herself on the beautiful south shore beaches of Maui, Pele spit fire from the Haleakalā volcano and split the maiden in two – the head becoming the area known as Pu’u Ola’i, and the tail represented by the Molokini islet. Makena is a beautiful and refreshingly unpopulated area of Maui, where the sun always shines in the shadow of the volcano and the beaches are magnificently pristine. Derived from the Hawaiian word “mak’ke” meaning “many gathered”. Makena received its name when many people traveled and gathered there to collect coral for the building of the Po’okela Church in Makawao in the 19th century.

Makena is also said to mean “the happy one” in the Eastern African language of Kikuyu (spoken mainly in Kenya). Lastly, Makena could simply be a respelling of MacKenna or McKenna which is a Gaelic surname meaning “son of Cináed” with Cináed being the Gaelic form of Kenneth, ultimately meaning “born of fire.”

Reflections Upon Circles of Life with Daughter
By Paul Kirk Haeder, father of the blessed 21-year-old crystal gatherer

chrysalis seeded in el paso
crossroads of upthrusting cultures
sword-germ-cross unholy
conquering of tribes settled
to the desiccating summer
harvesting nuts of spring
as winter collided in conception

tribes you were told
hold key to a forward look
into a circle, where seven directions
push winds of people passed
another state of consciousness
your swaddling blanket

mother vessel of farmers
hard iron of Bavaria
Russian plains seeking huipil
crisscross geometry of Maya
a single pregnancy
potent, dance circle
child girl teen woman
her clay creation

father unsheathed transgressions
spirit of traveler held to no design
stories woven into clouds
a tortoise for his home
scrambling outside precepts
prisoner of purity, Utopia
more than a whimsy
more muscle than brain
he struggles to see the light
hold the wind

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you splayed the inching winds
Chihuahua our place of interloping
your broad smiles like songs from
brujas cooked on peyote, mescal
the world was you oyster
or snappy tail of scorpion
land etched from ancient seas
a thunderbird bleached
but blood stained, your talisman

dancing through girlhood
roots and stems and berries
gathered, large middens your fantasy
river of separation, El Rio Grande
called brave by original peoples
scars of the truculent modern
steam shovel like burled tears on your earth

various canine familiaris constant companion
snow drifts like rainbows gathered
the pines of Mescalero Apache heights culled
by your fancy, long roads across two
deserts, traversing family lines, from W Texas
to SE Arizona, messages songs in the back seat

Inching to Womanhood
always colorful, coloring, the world more
than sticks, forests in your dreams
lurking beasts even today, officially
governmentally-approved Twenty-one
unwieldy fears one definer
yet the world of north rivers
pulls like salmon molecules
the storage of cold winters
the cool sweet aroma of bunch grass
pushing through moss, squeezing
cracks in basalt, ancient osprey
your protector through snags, firs

Internal Symphony
music plays in your heart, child-like
even in burgeoning womanhood
there are ways to glue bones, river-stones
cairns to cliffs, Ponderosa pitch
rubbed balsam roots

time is recorded or tuned
to our out syncopation
yours stitched inside
a heart made of gold
hardened by knocks before
puberty, a sign of survival
moving past tribulations

Greek Tragedies Bleeding into Adventure
the world is a giant sad play
yet shards of joy enter second by second
new ways of overcoming fear
balancing pleasure with communitarian
bliss, so you too will find villages
stay sharp like tribal flint
find rock and dry detritus
build bonfires, shape holy
to evolution, bang drums
revere moving continents
tether yourself to drifts
watch waders at river’s edge
unleash love and potential
never fear shadows
hold green verdant, blue marine
dance in the eye of crystals
remember old man’s beard
father like caribou
rutting with purpose
mother shards of poetic purpose

stream of consciousness
your prayer circle
seek tribes with reverence
know soil-seed-solitude
forever discard chains
know ebb of women, flow
of ancient warriors, touching
ice floe, rushing mountains captured
in bursts of macaw screeches
one day soon, the prison
of self-imposed daily blues
will melt away
the blackness into white light
verdant consumed by your own

Paul Haeder