Friday, December 12, 2014

The Cyclical Politics of Rain say the Elves



The shamrocks are folded
In reverence of
The trees are a bathin'
In trickles and gusts
Their trunks escort rivers
Of rain and dust down
Refreshing roots under
Puddle and ground
To neutralize wiley
thoughts on the hunt
Withered ambitions
Hydrated and flung
Back to the Earth
For restructuring life
Emerging again for
Renewed fresh insight
To attract and to gather
More suitable chains
Of appropriate pollen
and beneficial strains
Of unseen patterns
Of growth and of change
Reset and organized
By gentle long rain.

*wiley - full of clever tricks : very clever

**propagate - 1. spread and promote (an idea, theory, etc.) widely. 2. breed specimens of (a plant, animal, etc.) by natural processes from the parent stock.

NOTE FROM EVE: A rare, rainy day in San Diego was the inspiration for this poem. It is about the natural cycle of elements balancing themselves at last from a long cycle of working and stepping outside of myself to propagate** one of my very Earthly creations. The wind is always itsELF, and I haven't been lately.

The elements here balancing one another are Wind, Rain, and the politics of the elvin kingdom. Not my area of expertise, as I usually hang with the cosmic forces not the Earth beings. So learning, adapting, harmonizing best I can in this new game.

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