THE WATCHER

Voluminous, gray clouds
part the skies on either side.
It is not clear when deluge begins.

Now, nothing but more of the
ominous, charcoal sky-bison.
 
I feel the quickening in my veins
of remembrance; rain-makers
chanting. No longer is there need.

The wagons- circled & surrounded.
Tumble-weed clouds are rolling over.

I am the watcher.

Nature has cried out against our
blasphemies against her. She has
openly declared war.

Her weapons; the elements.
 
Battle-fierce against enemies.
She is unstoppable. She topples.

The whole bloody lot; ground-gaping,
earth-quaking. Unpredictable tides,
storms, tornados, hurricanes & fires.

We talk, yet do nothing to appease.
Move quickly to right the wrongs:

the asphalt & concrete erected
has been assigned to bludgeon us.

No measure of peace is too small.
The covenent over-arches the wall.

I am the watcher.

Alice Parris

 

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU