Hula Memories
by Michael Doyle

The modern age has its share of complexity.
But not enough to warrant Hawaiian anxiety.
The sacred duty held with great veneration,
Is the sacred duty felt by each generation.

Hula is the language of the Hawaiian heart.
It has remained so since the very start.
Each move is symbolic of a tale to be told.
With each move, the Polynesian story unfolds.

Hula expresses all that we see and feel,
In this way, this dance is what keeps us real. 
It is the joy and sorrow of every perceived fear.
It is the courage that is always there.

The heiau stands guard over the native graves,
But it is Hulu that reminds us of what it saves.
Though life pushes out in a million directions,
We cannot help but feel the deeply rooted connections.

The connections that make us want to return home,
There is something intangible yet hard as temple stone.
It is and was not just a dance but a way of life.
It brought us to a sense of peace and away from strife.

A pig roasts beneath fronds baked within Hawaiian ground,
And this too is a part of where our hearts are found.
Heritage calling to our hearts with every bit of love,
On the islands beneath a million stars floating above.

Like the ancestors did, we step left to step right
As slack key guitars and ukuleles play into the night.
There is and was something magical in the harmony.
What sounded right was to melodically loosen the key.

Then we would watch as the dancers moved into position,
Proud as we quietly were to be the performing musicians.
The dancers would dance, beating the gourds, chanting in voice,
And as we moved in unison, it was as if we had no choice.

In call and response, the dancers danced in sacred duty.
Every step taken had its natural sense of rarefied beauty.
Though life is filled with hard work and endless miles,
The Hula is the dance of dances, bringing endless smiles.
 
(c) August 26, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved