Hot July and Cooling Sacred Rain

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July the air is too warm

July I am too hot

Hot hot burning hot

Sweltering and useless

All movement requires more

Energy than can be spared

From the flames burning

The heat melting asphalt

Cheeses puddling crayons

And lipstick and candy

Have become new mediums

For painting textured

Art so hot so hot so hot

Evaporating ponds

Turning mud roads

Into deep sand traps

Sweat and sand

Swimming waters

Too warm and dangerous

Brew of bacteria and

Ameoba and chemical runoff

Too hot July

Of difficult

Summer births

Of sweet Cancer babies

And joyful thoughtful Cancer children

Who become loving

Kind generous Cancer adults

But oh I am so hot

With my nerves extending

Almost two centimeters

Beyond the surface of my skin

I force myself to walk

Staggering

A trail of

Steam and smoke

As I burn on the inside

With burning

Searing Grace

Flames dancing across

My vision

My body burning

With strange fevers

Unable to cool myself

I burn so hot too warm

The steaming pounding

Rain all gone

Until heralded by

Lightening and constant

Thunder glorious

Rain will come again

And amid the

Flashing bolts

The thunders roar

The rushing winds

I shall be soothed

By the cooling Sacred Rain

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Bear …. 07.04.2014
ⓒBearspawprint 2014

JULY ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014

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So Hot

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We sweat, itching in the sweltering hot swamp.
The humid summer air a burden, seeming more
Heavy than our torpid bodies can bear.
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My own screeching tinnitus is amplified
By the insect’s constant whine, the decibels
Overwhelming the earth’s hot wildcat scream.
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The pristine river is here guarded by acres
Of steaming thick river mud, and warm to the touch,
Mosquitoes and ticks sentinel the lost paths.
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The river invites. Swim at risk in the soothing
Red tannic waters, home to alligators, poisonous
Cotton mouth snakes, snapping turtles, gar fish, eels.
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Pollen, dust, and ashes float suspended in the
Turbid damp air, filling sinuses, eyes, mouth,
Unbreathable, coating surfaces with thick gray green.
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The longed for cool of the evening shall only arrive
Hustled by howling cyclonic storms, while local
Inversions trap the heat, cooking all with pressure.
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A small jeweled humming bird hovers, unconcerned,
Before me, then flits away, the tiny nest hidden.
With gratitude and cool well water, I rinse my face.
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Bear . . . 06.20.2014
ⓒBearspawprint 2014