Kairos / The moment

I’ve never written a poem
But I have walked a lava field at midnight
And seen the ropy hair of Pele unfurl in searing orange into a roiling sea.

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve lain awake next to a slumbering lover
Measured him with my hands and counted every eyelash as he slept

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve knelt next to a bleeding man on a glass strewn road
Held his hand and murmured a prayer to a god I didn’t know

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve set foot on an island bombed to a void, dust and desert
And passed stone hand to hand to build a home for the life that never died

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve sat beside old friends laughing before a great fire through the night
Huddling through the chill to link arms and greet the sun at Makapu’u

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve walked through the townships with women with scarred bodies
Who loom their stories in wool, whose hearts still sing with hope for their daughters

I’ve never written a poem
But I’ve held a newborn child, translucent and smelling of milk,
Watched her tiny rapid breaths and felt reason to do not what I could,
           but what the universe dreamed before it knew itself

Someday: meanwhile
perhaps life
may suffice