Felia

And over where hot northerlies come

Crevasses and caves, the red earth,

Sheer mountains crumbled by age

The warts of the earth, and shadows

 

The dowager mage of potent patterns

Felia, the climate no human conquers

Her work the wrath of a touchy being,

She is more than passion, never less

 

And she gets to work with her partners

The gusts, the fires, the dust tempests

And she takes for fools the weather people,

Through deserts her hot breath blows

 

The Spinifex and scrub alike near wither

The fires lightning makes has spread

Through to the grasses, plants and trees

Near the urban fringes, alive with fright

 

She has the power to turn grains to salt

On it she thrives, the soils leached upon

Ache in the sun that broils them dust,

And she corrals cyclones as they come

 

Before they empty their furious mess

She has them definitely, by their eyes

Until their heavy rains fall into the sea

At the wide hem of her outback realm

 

She is want to highlight suffering

This is a harsh land, not for tampering

They cannot hope to bend her will

These agit dreamers, only for dreaming

 

They hope to vein the land with metal

They hope to be like the platypus

With machines, and re-use the weather,

Felia controls their lands, her boudoir

 

Her love, her breath blows further south

Every which way, for months on end

Then moist autumns chastens her mood

For the land is in need of such temperance.