Deluge

It is World Poetry Day. A day that I, a less prolific poet than I wish to be, hold dear in my heart. By some twist of scheduling, it is also the International Day of Forests. A day to recall the woodlands of childhoods well spent, the mystique of ecosystems.

In celebration of both, I recall a poem that I wrote in my third year of University, in a town ringed by green on every side, where post-rain petrichor would lure me through the trees on my walk back from lectures, and into another world…

Let us go into the rain,
Where droplets devour one another
On walls and wax-coated leaves,
And tall trees hiss soft with a thundering thousand
Infinitesimal disasters.

Let us go into the rain,
Where the dark-earth scent
Marks nostrils, tongues and eyes alike
Until that migraine metal tang
Peaks and becomes paradigm.

Let us go into the rain,
Where the hot-sweet breath of ferns
Clings to skin, cloying
And syrup-like stifles the lungs
In its dark medicinal.

Let us go into the rain,
Where moss-slick stones are granite-glossed
And cave walls bleed an iron-rich stream,
Anointed again in primordial,
Compelling-repulsive to touch.

Let us go into the rain,
Where flesh becomes all but fluid
And bones direct the flow
And features are carved like canyons
And trembling, we explore.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s