Breeze Of A Storm Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Rumble, tumble. Gobbled down
a crater's mouth, an earth mound
raised for the tree
that brews and weaves
meadows of a slow gliding wind.

Step into the breeze
of your stormy bulk
and climb down
its abrasive mountain

to a stretching sand beach
of shells and the burrowing

dragon fly piloting
glassy wings in the fortress
of a home built

to devour mosquitoes
and emerald and copper insects

nibbling off more flesh
from a world
under arrows of sorrows

falling on both man
and beast,
the sun flashing its light.

(ii)

As carpets of toothy sands
nibble off soles
on a beach, what else
do we expect them to eat,

if not the feathery hands
of zephyrs that stroke them,

when a hurricane roars
with canine teeth
and heavy molars of a gale

rip off the fisherman's
net, leaving only his singlet
to tighten breaking ribs,

the trunk of a tower
rising higher with the man licked
and kicked off by waves

he pushes back
for a new round of storms
to enter a tsunami's track.

(iii)

Below the mile-stretched arms
of a howling storm wave,
crabs creep and dig
deep into valley swamps,

where time sleeps creeping
with slugs and snails

by the homeless man
between rustling dry leaves always

burrowing into the singing breeze
of a growling storm:
O look back and step into the sneeze
of an unfolding wind.