Iridescent flash,
Feathers’ blur, smudge; quick flicker,
Penny-sized glitter.
***
Www.serrenwrites.wordpress.com
Iridescent flash,
Feathers’ blur, smudge; quick flicker,
Penny-sized glitter.
***
Www.serrenwrites.wordpress.com
Updated: May 31
Many hundred years I have lain here,
Ocean ebbing against my scales.
Seeds brought by the wind took root atop my body,
So foliage blankets my back.
My claws dig into the sea bed,
My foundations stronger than those of a mountain,
Many a storm tried to shake me,
But still I lie here, still I will sleep.
An infestation of humans spread over the lands,
Those lands that I used to roam.
These creatures, where once they feared and hid in the trees,
Now live boldly and freely, blind to me.
How dare they?
Have they forgotten who I am?
Do they know no fear of me?
Since when did I, mighty catastrophe, not strike terror into the hearts of any creature to live upon this earth?
Since when did I, titanic force of flame and wind, not drive anything to flee in vain for hope of survival?
Since when did I, perfect balance of prowess and master hunter, not rule this world?
Now they think me an island,
An unmoving mass in the ocean.
They dare sail by on their weak boats as if they are unafraid to be near,
Forgetting the peril they would face should I flicker open my eyes.
Some even dare approach me, walking atop my plant-covered back,
Forgetting the deaths that will take them should I awaken from my millennia-long nap.
But for now I continue to rest,
Eyes lidded to the world of men.
The humans have until my third eye opens,
Whereby my conscious fully returns to this world.
But while it remains closed I continue to slumber,
So, beware human pests,
For I may now be asleep, unmoving, not dangerous, Soon I will not be so.
When it opens,
I am returned.
But now it remains shut,
And thus I sleep.
I walk along the side Of a hill well climbed: Out past the glen where the trees grow thick And tall And cover the path with dappled shade. Branches overhang with umbrellas of leaves Until you step out beyond, out the other side, Onto an open hill, Where you can stop and gaze at the land below. This land, a timeless land, It stretches out below- A patchwork of colour and fields and towns and roads, Where the river curls and meanders through, And you see the riverbank lit like copper’s glow, The mountains rise behind like shadowed ghosts. And to the side, atop a peak, A single, towering figure, Stoic and sleek, Yet as ghostly as those shadowy hills, The blue, misty giants, Like a cloak of low, thick clouds behind. I gaze below and wonder how this land would look unchanged from times of old, Hundreds or thousands of years before the scars of roads Were etched into its skin And the constant buzz of modern life, Of vehicles and industry, Obscured an untouched peace. These birds I hear And the bubbling of that waterfall, The trees, the sheep, the wind: How can we now enjoy these sounds of home country and nature Without the constant murmur of twenty-first century? With this meditative gaze and these wondering thoughts, The twilight draws in, And I can no longer distinguish the mountains from the sky As a thick blanket of cloud engulfs the horizon afore me. Such a strange softness- Bright, yet dim, too, on the eyes, And envelops this here land in a veil of grey, Preceding the black of night And marking my return to the modern life- Away from this hill, and back through the glen, Where the trees stand like sentries Who guard this hill, the place Where land and time stretch out together And merge in this timeless grace.
***
***