Before the gentle silence 'round me spread,
The earth erupted from a molten fountain;
Explosions roared about me, and with dread
I quaked before the hulking, rumbling mountain.
I walked beside a river, red with heat
From cauldrons hidden deep within the ground;
Within the lava, faces of deceit
Formed, menacing, then slipped into the sound.
The earnest sea then risked it's upright soul
And sent its boiling vapor skyward flying;
And with its coolness, forged a heaping shoal
Of faces, frozen in the act of lying.
The silence gathers calmly on the shore;
The sea remains, the throng will speak no more.

Hal Maples © 1991