ragingsands
A lake of crystals slumps into the earth before me,
Serpentine ripples dance along the watery film and glide over the heaps of sand,
It washes the ground in dilute blues.
A tired thirst doubts the sight,
Sounding out a quiet flutter of wings that ascends into a pulsing murmuration,
A quick wave of the hands and the water turns to vapour,
And the mirage recedes.
A malevolent storm rouses the sand from its slumber,
And vain monuments rise from the scorched dust,
All the while these embers of the wind utter course and rocky violence.
Lashing sands blindly whip themselves into a rage,
Parched bones in a pile of yearning reflections,
They are ground down in their fury,
They seek the water too.
Darkest shadow drenches the land in its silky robes,
And the sound of death fills the air,
Empty echoes haunt the name of sound itself.
Stale air crusts over the fresh embers of day,
And the violence reaps its weighty silence,
The shifting tides of dust seem to shudder imperceptibly,
But still the deep night doesn't shroud the thirst for life.
Blazing blades rain down and savage the land,
They seem to set out like roaring legions,
They terrorise the cowering dust in their purest splendour.
Now in burning brightness I see...
I too am dust...
Revelling in vapour,
Ground down in my fury,
Dead except to murmer haunting echoes,
These blades shall throw me down with rolling rust and dying dust.
Yet even for I there is a plea...
For from these down-beating rays and righteous beams,
So too rise clouds under its gaze,
And the water is poured down like blood,
And my thirst shall leave.
15.02.23
Coalesce and luminesce,
Among the drifting pomlights that hang,
Ripe for the picking, their cyan halos express,
Lining the cavern's sandstone contours with vibrance that bangs,
Pom juice will soon flow out from the press,
A heavenly nectar when proportioned with purest water,
Drawn from the glistening deep rock pools,
That lie below in weighty meekness,
The image of serenity,
Cooling down and holding up the caverns spacious plot in rolling dust.
O' flow, Great River pouring forth,
At dayspring shattered dust beside,
At twilight echoed praise behind,
Fled is thirst, that wretched chain,
Fled my hollow pride and vain-,
Glory, love for drought and rage,
I thirst no more, I thirst no more!
Blue River, Yours are colours myriad,
Yours are truest beauty, full,
In pouring out Yourself on dust,
I thirst no more, I thirst no more!