“Spark” a Poem by Judy Kenyon

A curious yellow spark jumped out of the campfire.

Large glowing eyes looked around the forest.

“Come with me, let’s explore our world !” she called to her friends who tumbled out after her. They held hands and danced through the stiff, unforgiving brown pine needles.

“Ouch, they’re hurting my feet,” one whined with a pout.

“Climb this tall pine tree. We can see so much more,” she said;  a glimmer in her sapphire eyes.

So they struggled and strived strenuously to the very top, expanding and becoming larger, and stronger as they went. They could see for miles through the azure skies. Breezes blew their auburn tresses back as they leaned into the caressing air.

Her friends followed her, leaping to the next tree and the next, their flowing, russet gold skirts blowing around their swiftly moving legs, like a stream turning into a torrent from the rain. Gold turned crimson, as the flames started to rage.

“Look at us,” they cried with wide, smiling mouths painted scarlet, as their cheeks flushed rosy and bright.

“We are wild and free as the wanton, tempestuous, blowing wind whirling through the woodlands.”

Zephyr was helping them, pushing them, encouraging them to become all that they could be. “You are strong, independent young women. Grow ever more powerful.” He alone was fully, carelessly, recklessly aware.

Then they grew and raced through the silver maples, and large, ancient, dependable oaks. Without a care in the world, they ran, tripping over their turquoise-tipped hems, always rushing till they were out of breath and lay down on the emerald, grassy meadow. Unaware of the massive, disastrous destruction they had caused to the forest, they rested their bright, sanguine cheeks and dreamed of tomorrow.

Ceres looked earthward, her head crowned with flaxen grains and bright flowers.  “Enough,” she said. Raising her intricately carved cane, she called first to Zepher, “Time to go.” Giving a guilty backward glance, he wheeled to the West and slipped away.

Then, Ceres turned to the goddess Hera. She was her last hope for the ruined woodlands.

“Please, dear sister, bring the cooling showers to earth; bring the healing cascades to the greenwoods and grasses.”

Spark and her friends sank quietly into the earth as Hera poured her gifts down from the heavens. And underneath the ground, seeds of maples, pines, and oaks stirred and awakened to a New Dawn.


About the author: “I retired from teaching seven years ago and have been writing ever since. I enjoy writing poems and children’s picture books. I spend time with my husband, children, and five grandchildren enjoying the parks and museums in Austin, Texas.”