Auliʻi Pearl

Familiar strangers 

We have been forced apart for so long.
So long that I never grew up knowing of you.
I hope you know it has pained me too.
Know that every living breath never quite felt
complete until we became acquainted;
not until your waters cradled me so gently.
When your winds traipsed along my skin
and throughout my salt-laden hair, it all felt
too familiar– 
too familiar for us to be strangers.
We have been separated once more
but I haven’t forgotten you.
Please, say you haven’t forgotten me. 

Passing Paiko Drive 

Heading eastbound on the highway
just past Paiko Drive,
it stands so grand from the outside— 
the expansive shimmering white wall
affronting your eyes as you pass by,
the rays of sunshine leaping
every which way off
of the stained glass windows. 
Sandwiched between
humble single-story homes, it looks
as if it was placed there by God himself.
How could something so dazzling be so haunting?
What must I do for this place
to simply be a place?
For crosses to just be crosses,
for incense to just
be incense,
for bread and wine to just
be bread and wine,
for this place to just be
a place after Paiko Drive—
nothing more, nothing less.
For then, maybe I will know peace.

Author’s Bio

Auliʻi Pearl is a Kanaka ʻŌiwi artist from Maunalua, Waimānalo, Koʻolaupoko, Oʻahu. In her artistic pursuits, she draws inspiration from ʻāina, her ʻohana, and her moʻokūʻauhau. Alongside writing poetry, Auliʻi is a film photographer, oftentimes combining both art forms to explore themes of ʻohana, belonging, and identity. She hopes to continue her education and exploration into Pacific literatures in the coming semesters. She is grateful to her kumu, kuʻualoha hoʻomanawanui and Brandy Nālani McDougall, who have been wonderful guiding lights throughout her personal and academic journeys.

Photos by staff