Eruption

The councilmen have chosen, soon I'm to be hoisted, up to their fiery stares,

they pull me close and whisper the great secret of our kind, ones of fire, ones of life.

they guide me to the sacred cavern, my magma molds to a perfect fit, and the dark hole glows yellow from my skin,

I wave goodbye with my somber light as my people gather at the core, to shake and cry,

sobs drop upon hot bodies, in wisps of steam and mandatory gloom.

I climb upward until dirt becomes sweet, I place brown granite on my tongue, and swallow

Is this the destination the council foresaw?

And is this what they call light?

Through the cavern, stark white like the edges of my body's heat, sparkle and dance and entice,

hungry now, I leap toward it, shooting from the hole, red, black and burning,

I take in a wonderous blue and impossible green,

And swallow it whole until all is pressed against our new bodies.

There’s a new sort of chanting, but one just as mournful,

The blue succumbs to gray, green bursts black,

and my fire soon dies,

I drift flat and harden, taking one last look at the light and devastation,

I was foretold, a gift of natural beauty and destruction,

I am what the world needed,

I am the lively taste of death and soil.