“;Hulihia IV,”; the latest volume of writings from Hawaii's prison system, is out—and it's probably the best one yet.

Although there are some familiar-sounding works in the first sections, titled “;Regret”; and “;Hope,”; the final section, “;Creativity,”; blossoms with some truly original pieces of prose and poetry.

This year's volume features writings from more than 50 inmates from six facilities on Oahu, Maui and Kentucky.

The sense of confined places and ever-expanding time have nurtured a vitality and creativity that many of the inmates seem genuinely surprised to find growing inside them when they are first encouraged to put words to paper.

“;Time is the essence of our being,”; writes a prisoner named Velma. “;It is like watching a slow-motion movie of a seedling coming alive and stretching its roots with each tremble. ... Time is incandescent, incessant and so precious.”;

Writer-teachers Pat Clough and Ilima Stern launched the creative-writing program at Oahu's Women's Community Correctional Center several years back and have watched with pride and awe as it has grown into one of the best-received educational efforts in the system. In addition to the new publication, the writers this year produced a short theatrical version of their works and performed it for fellow inmates and visitors inside the prison.

There are vignettes of life both inside and outside the prison walls that ring with the voice of been-there knowledge. When the writers riff on words like justice, prejudice, mercy, loss and character, they often come up with images that can knock a free person off his confident stride.

“;Loss is coming home from years in prison and having my dog be mad at me,”; writes Royce.

“;Justice leaves one tattered and torn ... Justice left fear residing in my soul/waging that soon I will fight no more,”; says Georgia.

One of the most poignant stories comes when Royce recounts a tale of a guard who confronts her as she's leaving a court appearance, confiscates her pen and, almost, her poetry, then sends her back to her prison unit.

“;Jesus,”; another guard chides her. “;I can't take you anywhere.”;

For every grim picture, though, there's an uplifting counterpoint, a hope that writing things down in prison will help someday make the times—and time itself—better on the outside. As Daphne says: “;There is light. I start over one last time. Again ... I endure.”;

Clough says the prison writers take great pride in seeing their work published in book form, and this year there's a small section for writers testifying how much the classes have helped them.

The new volume of “;Hulihia”; (which means “;transformation”; in Hawaiian) is again wonderfully illustrated with several woodcut prints by Dietrich Varez.