Eerie

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/eerie/

The simple sounds,
A cat on a step,
A bark from a dog,
The silence of the eleventh hour
As it breaks after the chiming of the clock.


The simple sounds,
A creak on the stair,
The rustle of the leaves,
Which break through the glass of
The bedroom window where the curtains peek out.
The simple sounds,
A cat's meow, a creak,
A bark outside, within the rustling,
A clock which chimes, which calls,
The hours pass the midnight hour, and the dance.

The simple sounds,
The quiet cat's step, the bark,
Dreamers toss, turn, still fever sleeps.
Broken glass, wind whipping curtains
Which tip the lamp, a spark, a flash, tis one.

Lightening sounds,
Fire erupts, lamp burns,
Stairs creak, cat flees,
Dog runs in, barking, yelping, searching.
The sleeper starts, all is calm.
Eerie.


Rain

There is a quality to rain,
When your heart is low,
When the desire to breathe
Wanes and the tides of death
Want to intervene.
We forget the lost ones;
The ones with no hope,
With no love,
With no dreams left.
It takes so little to hold on,
To give a hug to a stranger.
Needs to be fulfilled.
But empty time fills the hopeless.
Change is not inevitable,
The void of contact into that dark hole
In the center of my heart
Overwhelms and ties my hands,
But the water calls.
Water for cleansing,
For growth.
How I wish for a storm!

Dear Loreli, a response to the Alaskandispatch.com

Dear Laureli,
Here on the east coast just south of a small town built on marsh and bog called Washington DC., we’ve seen your love,and I the love I remember from a childhood in the middle of Minnesota. He watches over us, a bit confused at the way we use our cars and not the sleds of noble dogs and proud masters. He doesn’t hurt us, for we do enough of that on our own. But he has brought great beauty to us, and truth to us as well. A small boy had pushed him out of his way, forcing him to wander new paths.

The boy was angry, the child abused by the society that didn’t understand the harm of the warming of the water. He pushed rain and water inland and his temper was so hot, the snow could not find the path home. He melted the ice that the bears depend on for travel and hunting. He gathered islands of plastic that know no master and scatters them along beaches enraged at the waste and harm done to the wild.

Snow, did not know what to do. How could a child be so abused that he and his sister forgot the ways of their people? Having left their homes and trails, how could they find their way back.Had someone forgotten how the people should care for the child, for the environment the children need to grow strong and healthy.

Poor Snow. The ravens tried to guide him, but the snowy owls flew further south than before, stopping on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean and waiting. The fish have greater ranges now, and in ranging, stir up the great sharks, the dolphin, the whales, the boats of people whose lives are on the water. Great Bald Eagles call to him, come and sit with us a while.

Our President makes time to play with his children, and sees Snow watching with sad eyes. We know the sea is advancing on you in Alaska. We sent a President whose eyes are opened to see what is being lost. He saw your elders telling of life in the cold, the wind, the snow. He saw the eager eyes of children listening with respect. He saw the wild salmon on their journeys from the sea, to bear their own children.

We have not been fair to Snow’s mother, Lady Nature. She has turned her eyes crossly on us, sending hurricane, sand storm and tropical storm. She has sent tornado after tornado and rains like waterfalls. We poison the air, the land, the sea. Men and woman who falsely worship the lesser God Greed have not done what needs doing to restore our protectors to our land. But these who worship Greed are not the only ones in action. I myself have family and friends who wish to send Snow back to you bearing gifts of climate stabilty. Those of us who believe in Snow, who would protect that mighty creature and your true love, have met around the world. Steps are being made that will hopefully turn back time, so that the weather patterns that push and pull the world against its, will can return to sanity.

I will look after Snow while he resides here in the east and speak to him as a friend of a friend. I will remind him of Artic water, blue ice and glaciers thousands of years old. I will tell him you wait for him, and will be glad when he returns. I will tell him your daughters and your sons understand that troubled world that has turned him astray. I will pass on the stories of my dogs who love to dance on his winds, my children, who like ancient dragons, find themselves both in and on that wind. I will write stories for him to take back to you so that you will know you are not alone, that we need you to have the Snow which helped shape you and encouraged you many times to become more than yourself.

I hope he listens. He is an old love of my childhood. I hope he will return to you soon.

Most sincerely,

Ann WJ White, whiteawj@mac.com,

(writer, poet, photographer from the East Coast and lover of all things Alaskan.)

Posted in response to Loreli in the Alaskandispatch.com