Act and watch…

From ashes spread a plume of smoking guns
rising, billowing, bringing clouds of grief
to hills that bore the weight of sinking suns
… so set a silhouette without relief.

With night’s consent an intangible veil
wrapped itself to the sleeping lay of land,
napped itself in the nooks of dell and dale,
mapped itself to an open show of hand

that by dawn revealed itself as spanning
the breadth of a vast and volatile void
that emptily succumbed to the fanning
of an agent recklessly employed,

destructively deployed, to blackly-blotch
the vigilant sight of an active watch.

© Tim Grace, January 16, 2020

To the Reader: As the story goes, the world spins on its seasonal axis, wildfires track that course with devastating effect around the globe. The heat-map’s collision course with human activities is fuelled by the tinderbox of urban greenery. What so often is a beautiful skirt of forestation becomes an unintended wick of disaster. Both sides of the Pacific Ocean (East Coast of Australia to the West Coast of America) are prone to the same natural occurrence. From the ashes, with stubborn resilience, we bemoan the loss and suffering; and yet rebuild (knowing it will come again).

To the Poet: This was a poem fed by the strong visual impact of a looming disaster. Driving beneath a smokey-grey sky, the setting sun lit the horizon with a vivid blaze of metaphors. Some poems deserve time to resolve themselves into a satisfying rhythm; others, such as this, need the ‘moment’ to be captured as it is/was – an over thought hesitation is not what’s needed under some circumstances. Far better to be decisive – as now is the time to act.