Volcano Gods

The power of volcano.

Sometimes to speak with thunder as a voice
you summon all the energy in stock;
as eons pass, eruptions speed the choice
to freely give your flaming liquid rock.
So feel the earth, but mainly push away
to rise above the plain or shining sea;
gray slopes are steep, and dated palms will sway
at least until you set your power free.
Volcano, deep within there rumbles more;
arising to announce almighty roar.

The tide of waves that overlaps your base,
the tropic rain as you reach for the sky;
and even when the sun defines your face
you might just send dark ash ten miles high.
The likes of which are scattered to and fro
as in each stasis it may serve up doubt;
but when there's want, you are the demon-glow
to grab a-hold of hell and turn it out.
Volcano, a reaction hard and fast;
Thou be active, frenzied fiery cast.

To feel a pulse with magma as thy blood,
grand urges pressure you in massive stroke;
a temper burns in lava flowing flood
with searing clouds of sulfur gas and smoke.
Yet in these throes what often forms anew
for stepping stones made from the deep debris;
when past the flames, to rise within the blue
another piece of land born in the sea.
Volcano, even past the shifting sand,
comes a novel mount by constructive hand.

Reviews

[imawriter]

:-) Volcanoes! One of my favorite subjects. I like the meter of this poem, it flows like slow lava and then flows like fast lava and then back to slow. Nature is awesome, powerful and sometimes scary. I really like this poem.