Catharsis of a King

Catharsis of a King Twisted trees, gnarled and warped by wicked winds, curled in crippling curling toward faint warming of the sun, clinging with clutched roots to rocky crags, overhanging the crashing roar of foam tipped breakers. Stone face of shear cliff etched by fine chiseled rivulets, tears shed by dark clouds pummeling a world below, shaping the prisms for a future sunrise, deepening the chasms of canyons, uninhabitable but for their beauty. Creatures that defy the bounds of “beauty” yet define the artists form, call us to stare at simple brush strokes. Explosions, eruptions of hot, steaming lava, scalding and denuding mountains, torturously flowing to a roiling sea. Swirling vortices of madness, vicious brushstrokes tearing through the gentle country landscape as if change was overdue. Humming birds and fireflies, mosquitoes, gnats, and icky things one feeding on the other, the warring and the gnawing that would discourage even mother. Sunrise in the jungle, moonlight on city street, church bells that daily ring, calling us to celebrate the catharsis of a king. John G. Lawless 9/18/2014 for Brian Johnston - God's Kind of Poetry contest