[Eadha Deora]

There is rain tonight in the valley,
rivers running off course
and even the wind has missed its directions,
leaves stuck in my hair,
my eyelashes kept open to the gale,
forced breath, light dip but no depth
beneath the panting weight of
slanting
cloud come down around the very feet of
Mynydd Mawr, the Great Mountain,

roads washed out into fields,
barring the way instead of leading home,

and the black cattle hang their calls
on a hawthorn--little shelter in its spines,
while my refuge is the gorse, golden but
hardly more protective than the forlorn thorn in the field.

Bare foot, shivering, soaked to my very spirit,
there is no turning back for even the wild things,
no relief until the relentlessness slackens with its own
weariness, wondering that perhaps it has had enough
of itself, just as a child cries out its woe
until there are no more tears to be had.

Until then, I will wait,
struck by the adamant intent of a landscape to survive,
even in the face of a storm which knows no difference
between fence and field, woodland or mountain heath,
only its own release into the world
like my words now dropping on all alike,

tawny owl taking what belongs to it,
each poem agile in stealth, waiting for you
in the dark night of dissolution
to steal you beyond death into

clouds parting, sun gleaming,
and the whole world glistening anew with the fervor of
seeing itself once more.

[Vorcla]

Oh, I love your nature poems. The images! I can see the clouds, the rain, feel the wind, the leaves being plastered in my hair. And then the renewal at the end:

Originally Posted by Eadha Deora;

clouds parting, sun gleaming,
and the whole world glistening anew with the fervor of
seeing itself once more.

You amaze me. I wish I could do this...

[Maylar]

Where to begin with this one...It is amazing. I love every line of it.
Image was strong and steady through the whole time and I felt caught in it.
But this, this is a pearl, at least for my taste (even I barely could separate it from the rest):

and the black cattle hang their calls
on a hawthorn--little shelter in its spines

Beside the end, (and Vorcla already said all I wanted to say about it ), these were the best lines for me.

[Eadha Deora]

thank you, Maylar .... do you think you can express why they were the best lines for you? I'm interested purely because I want to know what I did 'right' lol.

Thanks too, Vorcla. .... I wrote this during a mountain storm just like this, so really my inspiration was purely the forcefulness of the land and atmosphere itself! Sometimes I try to focus less on what I am saying and just try to let those things speak through me. If possible. Sometimes it doesn't work .. other times you get good results.

[Vorcla]

...like THIS time!