Lokahi

A blackened woodchip
The colour of emptiness
Its lifetime bound to a frayed string
So close to life and love and breath,
When does the temptation become overwhelmed?
If my heart was set on fire,
Would you escape in time?
If life were a burning book,
Would you still continue to write my story?
What’s in a name, a picture frame?
It captures a moment,
It lasts.
It is there to be filled.
No limits, just possibilities.
Mysteries don’t need to be solved, just understood.
My story, your story, our unity.
Lōkahi.