The sounds of the ukulele playing and the birds singing, my mind misses you more than anything. The more I learn, the more I miss you. I get anxiety listening to the music with native tongues. . .my language, the language of Kānaka ‘Ōiwi, the language of my heart. I listen to the moʻolelo and read the books, I watch the YouTube videos and sulk in my bitter yearning to know, and I thought it was because I missed you…my beautiful Hawai’i Nei. . .I search into the deepest depths of my soul to find you and I find and I realize it’s not that I ONLY miss you,  I yearn for the day when people would care about you and the destruction they’ve done to Kānaka. . . The trauma, historical trauma that rings so loud when I talk about you, what you mean to me, who you are to me, your mountains that are far more remarkable than any and your oceans that are as blue as the sky. I realize I don’t only miss you, but I pour out my entire heart for you because in THIS pain I feel you deserve EVERY SINGLE PIECE of recognition as a kingdom, a kingdom that not many care to know of your history, a history so tragic that I live out that tragedy and through that tragedy, I will never let you go, even though I miss you, I know what you’re legacy feels like and through your legacy, your grace and your love for the land, people and preservation of the culture, I’ll let it reign through me for you, forever.