The Islands of Hawaii
The familiar rhythm of the drums,
The beauty of the dance,
The haunting chants
Are still whispered by the wind.
The `aina breathes and shares
`Ohana with her guests
That come by ship, by plane;
So unaware they walk with Gods.
Ancestry clings o'er the ages
To few left with pure blood.
Songs related to growing
Generations hold fast
The Aloha spirit. . .and as
A river separates into tributaries
The mixing of blood flows in
Many directions, exalting new life.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2010
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