Something I wrote after watching a thunderstorm pass through Boise.
**
The Wondrous Harbinger of Doom
Soft hazel eyes, yes soft indeed. They gazed up into approaching spectacle in the evening sky. Fueled by a mind of open dreams and driven by a heart that knows no equal, they locked onto what was about to come.
None of the torches that shine in the night gave their light to the ground beneath. Hiding from the coming doom, they closed their doors to avoid being smothered by the approaching battle.
Marching in precision the twisted clouds of the night lurched and staggered towards each other. They emerged into forms that could only encase the dark souls of knights forgotten. Displaying their violence to each other in flashes of brilliance they would then stalk again within their own darkness. Showing no hesitation, their strength was determined to hunt and prowl. Connected to arrogance, the dark knights within those clouds finally emerged and prepared for battle.
At first very few, but then more and more of the dark knights brandished their weapons of destruction. A cry rose among them as they approached each other for a grand melee. Yes, they cared not for the carnage about to unfold for their hearts were full of lust and their minds drawn towards oblivion.
With no respect for patience, the grand melee pronounced itself with a spectacular display of blood lust. The sounds of breaking metal and grinding bone ushered themselves through the night sky. Flashes of brightness pierced the eternal darkness – not to light the way, but to pronounce the anger the dwelled deep inside each and every one of the combatants.
The battlefield itself began to react to all this blatant carnage; a trickle of tears at first, followed by a torrent of remorse. Giving no quarter, the battlefield relieved itself upon the gentle earth and covered everything. Drawn to this display of horror, withered spirits rose up among the dark knights to partake what they were made for.
Feeding the fire of this grand melee, the withered spirits in the midnight darkness beat… thrashed… impaled themselves upon their kettles of deep doom. Forged in the dark fires of the Abyss, that unnatural steel rang with the music of the unfolding chaos.
Still reeling to the pain being unleashed all around, the battlefield howled and moaned. The leafy fingers that always reach upwards were the first to feel the uneven feelings being vented. Looking like fragile angle wings, they dodged here and there like small toys avoiding a lunatic trying to catch them.
For all their power, the dark knights had a limit, for their blows came less and less. More like grunts instead of wails, their flashes of anger subsided. Oh yes, an occasional one would draw upon the strength of the fallen and burst forth a roar, but the grand melee was over. The few that remained to continue moved like any angry giant, their monstrous footsteps faded as they headed to a place some call A Bend in the Horseshoe.
As this idiot giant dragged itself away from the destruction it had caused, it left tattered remains hovering above the earth. Fleeing in all different directions, the remains could no longer cover the lights of the night. Freed once again, the lights of the night began again to dance their fragile display of kindness upon the night sky.
And there stood the lone judge of the night. Round and full as the years that had passed, it bathed the gentle earth in its mystical color of silk. That same judge could tell deep tales of the deeds of men committed during its watch. Watching in silence, those hazel eyes had remained all this time. This judge gazed into that pair of soft eyes to remind them that what was seen and experienced must not be forgotten. Those eyes fully understood the meanings of the duty to be possessed.
With carnage comes peace, yea, with loss comes grace.
Where once viscous blows of air grab at all, only gentle whispers remained. Once a place to fear, now a home for butterflies to dance in perfection.
Where ragged amounts of pain poured itself over all, only simple pools remained to cover patches of earth. Pools that give the smallest of life a home and gateways for beauty to enter and provide for all.
Yes, the colors that dwell on this gentle earth, it is their place to be pronounced: the purples a little more royal, the greens a little more wonderful, and the reds a little more spectacular.
Howls and moans in the sky above may come and go, but there will never be nothing to replace, let alone compare to the laughter of children who dance in the sweet water we will always need.
Rubies… diamonds… emeralds… such exquisite drama! But more, please. Determination… focus… strength… such entitled arrangements! More, yes more. Patience… hope… love… such proper titles for life.
19 Jul 2008, 10:14 am
