Stone Warriors


They came out of the deep void,

Prows pointing north in embryonic fluid,

Connecting east and west, time and space

To Ka Lae, a place where the universe converges.


They came with tongues swaggering with heat, and bodies aching,

Bringing with them stones from the bones of the earth,

Prostrating to the unforgiving land,

Laying down their gifts.


Lovingly, they greeted her lacerating winds,

And gratefully, endured her Keawe thorns,

Some planting feet in dust, and sand, and stone,

Where Gods and Goddesses once roamed,

And made their home beside the sea,

While others with umbilical cords rooted in Ka`u

Charged forth into the Universe in great canoes

From ancient tidal pools of changing times and stone warriors,

Leaving mythic tales behind in seven wakes,

Under the guidance of a celestial vision

Carried stones wrapped carefully with love

for the final journey home,

To a place they had never seen before.


©KKLE June 20, 2013

Loving You

loving you is a hard thing to do…

to keep you free

to let you go

to not be attached

to not be consumed

but to love,

to love the way I feel when you laugh,

to feel the way my heart beats when you walk

….even walking away…

the words you say well up in my waiting,

and lodge in my throat,

and when you say “good-bye”,

my lips will simply say “okay”…



Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Punalu`u, cloud reflection in tidal pool

Taste the moss,

Steep the leaves,

Grate the bark,

Pound the essence with a stone,

In a wooden bowl made of tree, and sky, and earth.

We are the healers of our own souls,

Caretakers, travelers of our own worlds,

But have we found that all paths lead

To the one called truth,

That awakens before dawn

In the touch of another’s hand, in the corridors of eyes

Vibrant with life, and color, and movement

We are our own reflections of each other

In tidal pools, in water and stone texture,

Elements reaching together,

A collective consciousness,

Despite worlds,

And beyond conflicts to a calm place,

Open and still,

Stones absorbing heat and clatter,


And ready to be thrown back

To the sea,

The source from whence we all came.



© Karen K.L. Espaniola     June 11, 2013



A Woman In Flight












I met a young woman in flight today,

Her long lashes wet with sorrow,

and eyes heavy with the world’s pain,

she bowed her head

to a parade of clouds dancing

‘long a rocky cliff-side,

below the sky,

wild and careless,

and “unaware” she said,

“unaware of me.”


Grey sleeves damp

and stretched in summer’s heat,

Brass ear rings shaped like moons

Shimmering in a pool of endless loneliness,

She asked, “Why me, God, why me?”

Her eyes seeking mine,

A stranger searching to be seen,

A sinking raindrop in an endless sea.

“Only you know,” I said,

“Only you know your truth,

So set it free.”

© Karen K.L. Espaniola, June 8, 2013

Another Monkeypod Morning




Today as I circled the field on my morning walk I passed a tree that I often admire.  I take pictures of it during all stages of morning, all stages of light, all stages of the sun rising behind it, reflecting on its stature and strength and balance.  There is a majesty about it that draws me near.   I often stop in the middle of walking to stare into its branches–sometimes with the naked eye, and often with my phone/camera.  Once I even wrote a poem about the tree that mused about the beauty and metaphor of life.  Today I was thrilled. I was walking and stretching and laughing at e-mails on my phone. The wind was brisk and I was thrilled and overjoyed by people so far away in physicality, yet so close in heart–absorbing their beauty, their laughter, their sharing, and feeling how lucky I was to be connected with so many wonderful people.  As I passed the tree this morning I saw a man dressed in an army uniform staring up into the branches, and then take out his phone/camera to take pictures. I giggled at the irony of an agent of war and death reveling in the beauty of life.  It gave me an extra skip in my walk.  When I came around the field again I saw two army men under the tree.  Both stood together staring up into the tree.  The next time I walked around the field they were both sitting under the tree leaning on its trunk.  I wanted to stop and photograph them as they shared the beauty of life, but felt it would’ve been sacrilegious.  Instead, I enjoyed the sight. Every time I came around the field and saw them I was proud of the tree.   It had accomplished more by being still then I had in twelve laps.   I was totally impressed and grateful, and filled with joy.

living to live


I feel the air entering me,

Exulting me,

Traveling to every cell,

Sharing every memory

Brought in by the wind

Of trees and plants and buds,

And earth

Thriving to thrive,

Breathing to connect.

We are cells within cells within cells

In a universe calling out to be heard

In the fluidness of our own motion

In the recyclable patterns of our own  myths,

Alive in our own recollection,

Living to live.


KKLE June 2, 2013

© Karen K.L. Espaniola


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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.