LAMENT OF THE EARTH GOD
The road was a long one,
Full of pot holes and standing water,
Gravel crunching beneath my feet,
The grass verges soaked with rain.
Dandelions, cowslips and late flowering daffodil
Keeping their own counsel.
The old house that had been falling down
For years, had been repaired.
New doors and windows refusing to allow
The driving rain entry to ruin
Sweet smelling wood.
Once, here were fields of carrot and potato,
Beetroot and onion, sweetcorn and pick-your-own
The rain now so heavy, it sent me
Running to the shelter of an old tree
Whose canopy of leaves was as fresh and green
As it had always been.
I stood in a silent corner, looking at the set aside field
Of raw earth, stones and sullen weeds,
Waiting for the earth god to wake up,
Leap up and spring into the open,
Grass and earth and worms and wood beetles
Falling from his brown shoulders, towering into the sky,
Reaching out his long arms to tear down the rain clouds,
Chase away the sun hiding from his anger,
Grabbing handfuls of planets and glimmering stars.
Searching for a new home.
It was cold in the wood but I waited
Until all the stars and planets lay weeping on the grass.
Watched as rain became tears the earth god wept,
Flinched as he roared his anger, sending flood and fire
At the careless desecration of his home.
©2021 Gwen Grant