To Augustine
Oh Augustine, you are our mountain queen
We bow to you as you prepare to speak to us
We listen intently to your song from deep within
A song, a rhythm, you have sung many time before
Over the millenia
We are but humble humans waiting for your words
Waiting for your wisps of wisdom, your fiery edict
The earth trembles as you consider your message
We are transfixed as you approach
You are a planetary locomotive
Spewing smoke and ash as you approach the station
You are a ship of galactic proportion steaming across the sea
We stand in awe, in fear, admiring you always
You are cloaked in white
The hem of your cape is ruffled in foam
Your sulphuric perfume intoxicates
Your mood is uncertain...
Will your tone be abrasive?
Will you chastise us for leasing the ocean floor next to you?
For digging an artificial crater nearby?
For tinkering with the rules of nature
That your mother established at the dawn of time?
We have seen you like this before but we still adore you
Because you represent the center of earth
Because you are the voice of the ancients
Because you are beyond corruption
Because you are our glorious queen,
Our final truth.
We stand at attention, waiting for your message
Written with lightening bolts
On your fiery slate of lava
Or in the northern sky
Delivered to us in molten scrolls hanging from your peak
Or sent to us by air...
- Frank Mullen
January 5, 2006
Thank you Frank, for sharing your volcano-inspired poetry with us. We enjoyed reading it, and I especially liked the "sulphuric perfume" description.
