tonight when the yellow sickle rises
in darkness like flowing ink
come, you sailors disembarked from decks –
from canvases rippling in winds,
from distant lands –
come with your sea chests battered and locked,
with your understandings
come deep into the grove –
array yourselves in your resplendent jackets,
carved clogs
the marks of your lineage –
come into the round with your ancient footwork
mark the space with measures,
form the epynean mathematic
subtend with recondite calculations
ever developing, rhythmic,
embellish with the kanak, resolve into paroxysms –
perform the noble involute
dance the telachian whirl