The Sun of Summer
Summer's sun shily entered the season
keeping the Northern Hemisphere's Southern regions
comfortable, a spirit quite forgettable.
Deep down, everyone knows
it's just a matter of time, till it shows
its true color upon all living creatures.
And August went on fire, sweating out
all the anger ever held - burnt out
to a crisp, wisp of hot air, ceasing to exist.
What was it that blew out of proportion?
apathy, perhaps, making us anxious
wishing for things to matter, sense-filling?
Needs to happen before Autumn comes
knocking on the door, our hearts gone numb?
Our lips parched, our skin wrinkled, dried.
This wave of heat has turned us into beggars,
barren of pride, destitute, pining for the waters
Looting from anything wet, loosing footing, falling.
Our eyes then lift up as one to the heavens
sunfilled, tearing, realizing pray is a better manner
our hands grab another, another, another.
We wait in faith, we sing, we dance for rain,
what transpired in the hearts shines like sunrays
and the heavens can't help but open its door.
Thunder clouds gather, noses smell what's about to happen
faces brighten into smiles, watching the descent of water
our thirst becomes assuaged with its pure flavor.
And the new morning issues, the incredible breaking news.
© 09.01.12
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