Faith

The pond
struck dumb by drought.
ducks, dragonflies and frogs
oh the frogs...., all shot through.
The stricken face laid bare,
cracked and bleached like a dislodged skull.
It won't come back.
In fact it'll sound down the country
like a creeping parasitic moan.


Now..... rains beat out of a lusty sky
all flash and clamour
heaving
with such urgency
to jibe and tack
three days and nights,
the piracy of a damn fool flood
hissing and crackling and taunting
the comatose country
to... rise.
Rise up
you sleeping rivers and lesser beds,
I flush and swell your streams and creeks
rise up rise up
the sound of fortune sings in your valleys
awake and sail in my largesse
billow and bloom again
billow and bloom again
prettier than a piece of eight.

Now the frogs are back!!
The frogs are back
with their rat a tat tat
machine gun chat
Nailing positions
just to be sure,
just to be sure.