Blessed Be Her Earth

Like the verse below, I am reborn of late. Spring has sprung and with it my creative soul. I have neglected what once was my only passion. This story blends my rebirth into wordsmithing and is inspired by the works of my better half Ravelyn Nightingale, in particular, her story Vemadea.

Please join me as we re-awaken the Goddess Sindestra from her deific slumber.

She woke in a place the stars had forgotten.

Unlike her, the absence left rotten—

Dank decay contrasts her shimmering skin

As her dreams object to what’s awaited.

With a yawn and a stretch she takes it in,

Fixing this, her next story unwritten.

Upon rising, she can survey—

Regrowth, her way.

Sowing life’s flurry,

But with pace, no hurry.

Abandoned stars twinkle less high.

Now the light glows from her eye—

Blessing the decayed garden.

She stands: a floral warden.

Tender hands tend her land.

Fresh sprout here and blossom—

There, bursts life awesome.

Fingers twitching, gleeful,

Plucking rot and evil.

Stalks and stems rise to meet their guide,

Grateful to nature’s bride.

Fauna blooms and foliage looms,

With hope reborn and waste forlorn.

A new sun can dawn to warm her spawn.

Blessed be her earth.

Let it show its worth.

Good Fortune to You.

May the stars never forget you. If they do, bring life back to your own garden.

-Your Local Madman

Tell me your thoughts in the comments or over on Facebook at Tales From a Madman.