Volcano

How still he lay. 

No noise, no noise.

A surprise to us all for there was 

no grumble, only poise. 

We still made sure to creep around on our tiptoes, 

for noise of any kind could wake him in an instant. 

He woke up one day.

There were no stirs, however. 

No noise, no noise. 

Only the awakening of a looming figure

watching over us. Examining us.

Waiting to catch us off guard. 

He stayed awake. 

We went by our day silently and on edge,

He sat in our view growing impatient from 

day to night and night to day.

But still there was no noise, no – 

The grumbles began. An impending doom; a surprise we saw coming. 

He roared, rumbled, screeched.

Molten substances of red, orange, yellow spat at us. 

His grumble thundering in our ears.

But he could not catch us each time, no matter how hard he tried.

He couldn’t get us, he didn’t want to. 

Instead he destroyed our surroundings,

The furnishings of our home, the the flowers of our bed.

Gone. 

He sat in silence, voiceless. 

His anger turned to sadness 

whilst his sadness turned to pain

We waited for silence to return upon us. 

We did not claim ourselves to be victims of his destruction.

We were just the trigger.

And with that, he lay dormant again. 

The aftermath was peaceful.

He helped us plant our flowers.

We hoped the blossoms would appear this time, 

before he came to destroy them once more. 


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