Eloquent, Belligerent, Ravenous Lizard

Tree, oh, great tree,
green tree,
bark clothed in eastern shadows of the sky,
shadows fallen from on high,
fallen out of darkened cloud,
spun from sun shine or from moon, and
climbing down the afternoon,
left hot behind the early dawning,
by the mirror of the morning.

Tree, oh, great tree,
green tree,
in your shadows hide me, and
provide me,
with a place to be.
I will tell you all my secrets,
camouflage tree,
I will tell you all my secrets, but
although I know,
that you can see me,
you must, no one tell, my dear,
that I am here.

I will tell you stories of my forebears, who have eaten mountains,
of my mothers, who directed, bubbling geysers, foaming fountains,
of my fathers, who once drank, the waters, of the mythic flood, and
of the hurricanes, which even now, are raging through my blood.

My brothers and my sisters have called down,
the twisted winds, the raging cyclone's frown,
the end of day, the devil's crown, and
I, myself, have been the cause of all the sky born lights,
Auroras gown, and
of the thunder's monstrous moans.
I am the one who knows the words,
which churn the Winter's waters into stones.
I am the one who blows the spells,
which turn the leaves to vicious red, and
it is often said,
when fury's great within my heart,
within my head,
then it is I who beckons, with my fearless call,
the frightening and the frigid breath of Fall.

It is I who crystallizes rain, and
I who drive the drizzling fogs insane.
It is my voice which sings the song,
that withers seeds, and
blights the weeds,
shakes up the wind,
makes branches bend, and
takes the wild flower's bloom.

I break the shattering gloom.
I am the heir of dinosaurs, and eat,
illusionary Summer's stars,
once fallen at their feet.
I am the one who bends the rainbows, and
who makes the halos round, and
it is I who makes the echoes sound.

Oh, I cannot be found,
for I am Warrior, hidden now,
transparent flowers on my brow.
A thousand, daring insect's eyes,
intent though they be, on the skies,
cannot discover me, through my disguise,
for I am hidden now, by shadowed tree.
No one can see.

I am the one who can devour,
with neither fear, nor tear, of pity,
all the great constructions,
of the mighty insect city.
I can bring down,
destructions,
to the insect town, and
if it be, that I should so desire,
I can bring down, the insect world entire,
the wide empire,
the insect nations,
all the great and glittering,
glorious, insect civilizations.

These are my secrets,
Oh, great tree,
oh, camouflage tree,
who hides me.

Here, invisible, I stand,
and,
I command,
by all my rights,
beyond all insect's sights, and
fast,
and vast,
I wait to cast,
my tongue, and
spin my spell,
which, even if you hear,
my dear,
you must not tell.

Do not tell them I roam free, and
let them not know, here I be.
Oh, tell you not the sudden Spring,
quick passing as the dragon's wing.
Tell no one, neither weathered ant-hill,
spider on the window sill,
not flying gnat, nor jumping flea.
Tell no one, then,
my dear,
of me.

Tell not I ride in thunderheads,
I hide in purple fights,
in ruffled songs of owl winged nights,
beneath the feathers flung afar,
from blue jay's vicious flights.
Tell not I hide in acorn's lights,
nor under seeded, weeded sights,
for it is time now, I must feed, and
so, take heed,
oh, great, green tree,
oh, camouflage tree, and
careful be,
to listen to me.

I am marching, walking, stalking,
Keen eyes gawking,
Unseen, in shadows green,
Ravenous, oh, ravenous,
My stomach is so cavernous.
I will have my way, I say,
For I am ravenous, today.

I rise up,
as a towering power.
I strike, before the coming shower.
Oh, I am ready to devour,
I begin, I ravenous start.
I do not let insects depart.
I am a wild and ravenous dart.
I sudden strike, the insect heart.
I rage, I kill,
not for a thrill.
I only seek to take my fill.

A prayer I say.
I do not stray,
I do not stop or look away,
I have to strike.
I have to kill,
for, I am ravenous, still.

[March 2015]

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me of when i was in my parents' backyard in Trinidad...and had an encounter with an iguana that was about 3 feet long...

we had a long staring contest...i got as close as i could without scaring it away...
beautiful creature....

the poem is so scenic in its delivery.

[Vishuddha]

Thank you for your words. This was actually writing about a little lizard no bigger than my index finger, who lives on my porch. His name is Looks-Like-a-Leaf. I don't know what he is thinking when he just sits and stares, immobile for ages. I guess he is thinking something! Lizards do seem to live in a more patient place than we. This may have something to do with this poem being way too long. I do plan to come back and chop it up sometime.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

they are more patient...that iguana outstared me....

[Marie]

This is very strange. I get the idea of a huge dinosaur, but it isn't that.

Hard to understand, but beautiful.

[Vishuddha]

Just a lizard. Some of them have big egos. I sometimes wonder what they are thinking, or would be thinking if they thought and what they would say if they could talk, or maybe they do talk but we don't have the ears to hear - but, who would they talk to? - maybe a tree.