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harmonic winds of the spheres witnessed our reunion. Night
occurs as day, and the quick and the dead know no distinction.
In Hawaii, the rain often comes down with sun and the new
moon floats with its back facing the winter horizon; the
"trades" at times sweep waterfalls toward the sky, and man
finds his directions according to mountain or sea. My family
drifted away with my vanishing dream—to merge with the
beauty of dying into a life of ceaseless changes and ever
renewals, in the concord of Heaven, Earth, and Man.
Since that time my family has been shading me from the heat of the tropical sun. And the scroll with its Confucian words of guidance still hangs where my brother said it should, in my present Chinese/American home.  207
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