Above the caldera at Yellowstone,
a brittle soilrock crust
caps a lake of liquid fire
with only fumaroles of acrid steam
and spewing geysers
to slake its upward thrust.
False steps by men or creatures
breach that fragile mantle
plummeting errant ones to
scalding pain or death.
Within us all calderas also roil
brewed of failures, slights and fears -
dissolved in fiery pools
of self-consuming miseries.
Counter to that molten force
we form our culture crust
of forgiveness, love and justice.
With music, art and friendship,
we plant fragrant gardens in our souls
and load our trowels with psychic mortar
to seal the calderas of our discontents.
July, 2006I/
Oh but how our discontents can erupt like a mega-volcano! ! ! Using the fire-lake as balast for human nature is genius unleashed. Read this and cheer! ! ! Great! ! Elysabeth
Excellent and apt comparison, and a wonderful reminder of a raw, yet beautful place. -chuck
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The calming of the rage, something that takes real skill and a very strong heart, , but it is all worth the while, for it offers a something that many have had to fight for, , , peace a great write Robert Love duncan X