To Pele, Goddess of Fire, Devourer of the Land  

Two miles high, a world away
from sea and palms, at crater’s edge
I watched the slow descent of mules
deep into Haleakala, followed
in silence, but for rhythmic crunch
of boots on barren rock and ash –
entered Pele’s somber abode,
uninvited, unannounced.  

The sun slid down the sky.
Cinder cones cast scolding fingers
across my path,
and darkness filled the caldera.
Diamond dust scattered across the sky,
the Milky Way a splash of quicksilver
painted on the dome of night,
I lifted my hand, to touch it.

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