A Path of Least Resistancefrom 'Lea Valley Sequences'Briar Wood
On the drive toward Mauna Loa
past groves and roadside rows of
lehua,
relative to rata and pohutukawa,
with my monthly flow about to begin
I have ten tough miles to go through
the rift zone over
a'a
and paahoehoe
to where lava oozes a
twisted beauty
with two testosterone loaded guys
as guides, who set a spraining pace.
I've had enough bad luck
so I won't touch the lady's property –
though you can see why people might be tempted
to pocket a rock or two
because all that glitters is
silica, basalt,
iron, copper
the
jewelled robot body of earth here
radiates enough heat to sear spectators
releasing minerals that cool in layers
grows gold when the lava
simmers down
silver when nearly new
this magma from the world's
molten mantle
hisses its welcome
as the party
walks on solid glass
and whoever stumbles is cut.
A quick lunch of trail mix
surrounded by enough rock to make
mile upon
bended
mile
of road,
rainbow layers of scoria
while the lava is eating
trees – relentlessly
surrounding a kipuka
of
kukui –
to a sound track of methane explosions.
Men prod the hot crust – lift it
watch one cent pieces
engraved with classical pillars
blaze in bright green fire
because for everything ever created
there must be a
juncture of
destruction –
this
is my burnt offering
a scorch marked manuscript
for the goddess
to go up in
clouds of
smoke
to steam
open in the sizzling sea
to do
with it whatever her wish is.
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