-- by Giddian Beer from www.itanjo.com
Verdant, fecund, lush unto decadence, ripening on its own rot,
thirsting for a cool drink in the hot, stagnant air,
the forest festers and feeds.
A breeze stirs;
Leaves shiver and sigh.
The breeze quickens
And a busy whispering rustles from tree to tree --
heads nodding, arms waving in mounting agitation,
a sibilant alarm is spread.
The fluttering and scurrying things of the night vanish to hiding,
As a cool, damp utter blackness unrolls across the sky and presses down.
Glimmer and beat of war;
Rampage in distant clouds.
And the weeping begins.
Trees sway and writhe to a whining lament
As ten billion tears fall hissing on leaves and ground.
A fury nears!
Mighty glinting and massive grumble loom closer, closer!
Crescendo scream --
wailing, whooping, whistling, worrying,
manic, wrathful keening --
Trees lurch and wobble like a mob of sodden drunkards,
meandering, aimless and frantic, in the spasmodic
glare and gloom!
The battle is here!
FLASH! blinding flicker,
burning the blackness to over exposure!
crack - BANG! blast of thunder!
then, pounding and rumbling, it growling goes stumbling
and mumbling it rolls to the edge of the earth.
Counter fire sparkles and throbs in the distance.
And the tears drench it all --
Rejected by the once thirsty ground,
they cower in puddles and scud into streams,
rushing madly, knowing only that they must descend.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the violence abates.
The flashing and the crashing recede.
The shrieking weakens to a whine, to a whimper and stops.
The tears become fewer, smaller and cease.
The paroxysm has ended
The calm is good.
And it is clean.