The rolling seas

on the other side of the mountain,

cascade like frothed meringue 

atop their greeny breakers

lining-up in sea-horse cavalcades

swept on by the westerly wind,

overtaking each other in their headlong, landward thrust.

 

The same tossy wind, insistent,

stirs the sessile oakwoods inland

into a writhing, living cohesive entity

tumbling in oncoming waves,

so the hillside canopy sways 

and bends as the bow of a violin;

its song more a lullaby or embrace

than a tumultuous race.

 

The trees and the seas

are fair playmates for the gales

as they romp over the oceans

and pummel the lovely land.

 

Their music soughs thru’ my veins

overriding the mindseye and senses

with their pressure and power.

Like a phoenix rising from the waters,  

storms and weather systems scurry

along their convection highways

engined on solar heat, light

and the momentum of axial spin

 - playing tidal games with the moody moon

dancing up and down the thermals,

quaffing ppq and interstellar mystery

to whisk ‘n whirl the churning deeps

and batter the cliffs and beaches

rousing the elements to commingle

reducing the rocks to grit,

the space itself, to mutate:

to flatten the forests

or strip them bare -

hydrogen and oxygen supreme.

June