The Drought

20 02 2009

The Southern Sky stays still while the Sun sweeps away the darkness.
‘Tis Morning in Australia.
And today, same as yesterday, and yester before,
the Earth is as dry as dust without breath.

The Rain Clouds have gone on strike.

“Sun, you are impossible!” They cried to their master.
“You assault this planet with yourself; it cannot receive your power!
For over a week now, fires have raged over ground,
and you shine but even stronger!”

Saying thus, and still feeling the Sun’s unceasing presence, the Rain Clouds left the Sky.

For days,
For weeks,
For months,
there was nothing but heat.

And what a heat!

Scorching, skin-piercing, sweat-evaporating heat.
Not a creature came out during day,
only appearing in the earliest hours of the morning and the earliest hours of evening.
Scarcely did the sun have the chance to look upon thee.

And the Sun cried; but its tears emerged as rays, still hotter.
And for this, the Sun wept more.

“What am I, but heat and light?
All day, I give my entirety to
this planet.
I am enraptured by it;
To present it with my presence is my only wish.
And yet, Earth, she hides her life from me.
She hides her movements, her sounds, her vibrations,
her colors, her scents, her diversity.
Even her children dare not show their faces
until I disappear, that the Sky may have the Moon.

I have flooded the Earth.

I must learn moderation.”

So, the Sun decided to gift Earth.

Unable to diminish its fiery essence,
it ran through the Sky as fast as it could,
to give the moon more time of day,
and Earth’s children more time to play,
even though the Sun would be gone,
and unable to look thereon.

The Rain Clouds realized this selfless gesture,
and as the Sun departed day early,
they filled the Sky to kiss the Sun goodbye
with tears of compassion for kindness.
They wet the planet,
breathing rain onto dust,
reawakening life in the evening.
Earth grew freely,
blooming colors and scents and sounds unknown for so long;
her creatures crept in fun.
And the Sun said “Good Night,”
as the Moon had begun.

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2 responses

20 02 2009
Janice

what powerful images. I love the image of the Rain Clouds kissing the Sun with tears of compassion. This has the feel of some of the ancient Native American or African tribal folk tales of the natural world — like the Anansi stories or Abiyoyo. Just beautiful. You should send it in to a newspaper or literary magazine, or any campus publications.

22 02 2009
felix the rat

keep it free

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