Serpents eyes sear like fire,
Through the grass,
Like a bushfire.
The Embers glow like gems in the sunlight,
And wait for the slightest wind to spark,
A dangerous temper.
The water comes and acts not as it should.
The Ethanol Rain,
Simply adds fire to the coals.
The dry grass burns,
And the air seethes with fire.
It destroys all,
And destroys itself last.
It leaves a hollow empty tree,
An enigma of rebirth,
And the seed drops.
The seed opens.
The seed grows.
Waiting to create a new passion,
With the ethanol rain and it's companion spark.
A contest entry
- be by ArtFullyMe.
2400 points, ended May 25, 2008, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Interesting, it gave me a very strong visual of a burnt forest, the way the forest floor looks more like the moon than earth, and some specific trees that drop their seeds only after such things have occurred ..
As well as the serpent eating its tail
Thanks for your entry.
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I have to say, this is core existentialism! Great thoughts with this one! Genuine. Real.
Good Luck in the contest!
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