POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

PROMPT #198 – FORCE OF NATURE

We’ve all been watching the stories of the devastation of Hurricane Matthew this past week. There is a definite force in nature which can precipitate changes or sculpt the elements around them. We’ve seen forest fires, torrential rains, snow storms and tornados, earthquakes and volcano eruptions. Today, write about the forces of  nature. And remember, not all forces need to be bad things.

SARA’S STORM:

ELEMENTS

Earth nourishes us. We plant
and farm. Trees rise, flowers
bloom, providing shade,
and beauty to gaze upon.
Earth can also quake,
and open craters in our midst,
causing destruction and death.

Water is life’s elixir. We use
it to drink, bathe, and nurture
plants.  Oceans, lakes, and creeks
are water’s home. If no rain
falls, drought will devour earth.
When a lifeline turns, spurns
us with hurricanes, tornadoes,
and floods, disaster ensues.

We breathe in air to survive.
Yet, we take air for granted,
polluting it with chemicals
and fuels. If air becomes unhealthy,
what can we use as a substitute?

We depend on fire for warmth,
cooking our food, and lighting
our hearths to glow and dance.
Chances are taken by careless
people. They drop lit cigarettes.
One person can start a wildfire
that decimate homes,
taking lives along the way.

Be kind. Mind Mother Nature’s
elements. Without warning,
she can exact revenge.
We do not have control
of every aspect comprising
the elements, but we can
all do our part for life.

(C) Sara McNulty – 2016

**

WALT’S WEATHER:

SHINOTSKUAME

I listen to the rumble. Such intensity in the city. Rains in buckets and sheets spill, the streets in rivulets streaming.Watching from my window shadows form, silhouettes bathed in every bolt of electric mayhem striking in the distance and nearer. The fear is that the power would surge and crackle and leave all in darkness. It hearkens back to the womb. Damp and dark, murmurs and gurgles amplify. The cascade filling gulleys and valleys, awash with nature’s fury. If you hurry, you can step out of the confluence before it ruins your shoes.

Hard and intense,
the rain falls in the distance.
In its wake, the calm.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

 

* Shinotskuame is the Japanese word for intense rain.

##

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18 thoughts on “PROMPT #198 – FORCE OF NATURE

  1. William Presston on said:

    WATER POWER

    A waterfall washed
    the face of the escarpment;
    how glassy it gleams.

    Rolling waves rumbled
    along the rocky shoreline;
    homes of cobblestone.

    The river cut through
    sandstone, granite, and basalt;
    how deeply it wades.

    Long-ago glacier
    sallied down the mountainside;
    hanging valley stays.

    Myriad ways bid me know
    the pressure of water’s flow.

  2. HE NAMED ME “WIND”

    When you poets take your pens to name me,
    identify with words misnomers weak
    as wings of flies, you fail in your technique.
    Invisible power you feel is key
    to settling on just what my name should be.
    Creative minds who write those labels seek
    personified names, but your quest is bleak.
    It’s difficult to bridle what is free.
    I roar through woods and city streets unseen,
    and woe to what or who stands in my way.
    The force I wield can level all that dare
    to challenge me. I am headstrong and mean,
    so potent only God do I obey.
    He named me “wind.” My fury do beware!

    #

  3. connielpeters on said:

    Secrets

    The sunrise instills a calmness
    Though most seldom feel it
    The fog casts its mystery
    But few can reveal it

    The thunder sings its song
    Though not all care to listen
    The sun dazzles the water
    Though few see it glisten

    The ocean hides it treasures
    That most don’t uncover
    The wind whispers secrets
    From an eternal lover

  4. Not sure about using lower-case for this. Maybe it should be all CAPS to reflect noise. Needs work….

    That Gored Sky

    where was the face of heaven
    when that wind stormed
    and stumbled about,
    a wounded bull
    that gored the sky.
    where was the face of heaven
    when music’s wind was
    a fierce horn, when it
    reared up in rage and
    proclaimed itself born
    while the masses threw
    down hope. there, where
    the face of heaven was
    still and white and wet.

  5. Sara, the clincher to your wisely-worded poem is that last line. Yes!

  6. wow, Walt, it was like standing in the storm! and then…calm! Beautiful. Sense a double meaning there!

  7. Oops! Put this in the wrong place. Sorry, Walt.

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