Trees on Fire
Thunder ones struck
an Island of Turtle, fertile.
Burning song,
his flash, his cry, his heat,
her quake, her shake, her flame
then calm,
of a storm now gone.

She came as gift giver
an eye in the storm
a seer, soother and sayer
a woman creator.
Her body made milk
a warmth in a wind
the Creator's creator
a circle to swim.

Eggs burst of spring
the future is promising.
Linked in a sting, burnt in a potion,
elixir of seeds, one swims to be whole.
Life out of death, a spirit unfolds
dividing becomes more, from two now four
and so spawning a life, is what death is to war.

Trunk and stem
a belly holds a vessel
Thighs and roots
the island of a Turtle.
Carrying a breath
in the moon of life's ripening
promises the beginning
of a new relations happening.

The green open kick
of this curled up start
is the telling of a ring
a round a heart.
The divining of a mind
and a connection of bones
a webbing of veins,
under a gauzy coat.
Earth's circle cycle
embarks on a harvest call,
that from such a small life
could require such a squall.

For planted inside arises a typhoon,
growing out of it's adjoining room.
A nation on fire breathes its own hum
a song of winter lives on its tongue.

Begun in a hovering thunderous pain,
sicker and faster, tormentor of rain.
Spilling and splashing, bursting to break
the waters are speaking Create, CREATE.

Thunders imploding, rolling, then flashing
forcing a part, splitting and knashing
a world rips out, an orb of passion
defining works of earth out of a heaven
and in His own fashion.

Cries steal the storm from the night,
blown into the branches to a mother's sight.
A new shoot of earth, of air, of light
from deep waters came the tree of life.

Her beginnings are the endings
she ties off in a knot,
sealed in the seasoned cycle it brought.
Fresh sap is the nectar,
poured out, sucked back to sleep,
rooted forever in a wantlongdeep.
A hunger for life and the forest of trees
and the fire of the thunder Beings sung from Above.

LauraLee K. Harris