The Summoning

Let the light summon
the sleeping mountain

A gush of water
gives way
to the edges of a clearing.

Look up at the mad red sky.
The clouds rolling in grief.
Trees praying on their knees.

All is longing for some heaven in hell,
some purifying.
Haven’t you still heard of the calling?

Allow the ridges to rumble
Let the rocks fall back.
Grab the reigns of the aching wind.

Rise up from the ruins!
You’re the tower made of mud –
fallen ashes, a stab to the heart.

Let the earth soothe your wounds
Let the air raise up your spirits
Let the water push your blocks away,

And let the fire –

Let the fire consecrate
what remains.

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