.
Monsoon in the Jornada
_Months of unwavering stillness,
_Parched powder seared by the sun,
Pitiless taunts from New Mexico sky,
_Tenuous cloud-wisps undone
_By defiantly static surroundings
_As summer’s assurances wane;
Skittering deer mice seek lifegiving shade,
_Blearily thirsting for rain.
_Jornada del Muerto they called it—
_Conquistadors dogged and bold
Blazing a trail through their fever and fear,
_Tilting for new lands to hold.
_But the earth is a merciless mistress
_When threatened with reckless conceit,
She who gives bounty withdraws her consent
_When mastery mandates defeat.
_At length, the western horizon
_Whispers a promise of grace
As thunderheads loom in the gathering gloom
_And approach at a quickening pace.
_Lightning illumines the dust wind,
_Squall bursts begin to blow.
Whether or not the weather will win
_I’ll sip coffee and savor the show.
.
.
Dan Tuton is a poet living in Albuquerque, New Mexico. After an initial career as a family therapist, he has been ordained as an Episcopal priest since early in 2004. He initially served a parish in the Baltimore area for four years, and have been the Vicar, then Rector of Hope in the Desert in Albuquerque until retiring in 2023.
Dan, I get your cunning satire about a monsoon. Having lived in West Texas and Arizona, a summer shower seems like a monsoon. Enjoyable poem for me to read and savor.
Thank you Roy, sounds like you’re a wizened veteran of late summers in the Southwest!
Thank you for sharing this poem—I really enjoyed it. I did not see that last line coming! Reminds me of one of my favorite German poets, Heinrich Heine, who sometimes would set up sublime imagery in the style of the Romantic poets and then undercut or subvert it at the end. I always love that kind of thing. And I really enjoyed your evocation of the nature of New Mexico. I’ve never lived there, but having driven through and visited a number of times, I have always been struck by the beauty and majesty of the Southwest. There’s something really special about those rugged spaces. Thank you for brightening my afternoon!
Thank you, Josh, for your generous response. (If the truth be told, I didn’t see the last line coming, either, until I was there!)
I loved the progression of the poem, from the prelude to the storm, with the ‘tenuous cloud-wisps undone’, the static and the skittering deer mice, to Man, the interloper being punished by Nature for his greed and disregard, to the storm breaking and you ,the narrator, sat on the deck as I imagine, enjoying a mug of coffee.
The structured, yet somewhat loosened rhyme scheme, is extremely effective in allowing the descriptions to be complex and to flow powerfully like the coming wind and rain.
Nicely done Dan. Apoem with some memorable imagery.
Thanks very much, Paul! I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Dan, I love the musicality and the vivid and tangible images you paint with your perfectly placed words. I particularly love these lines:
But the earth is a merciless mistress
_When threatened with reckless conceit,
She who gives bounty withdraws her consent
_When mastery mandates defeat.
If we think for one moment we have the last word on the weather… a cup of coffee while watching the heavens hint at their intent will put us straight. Dan, thank you for this highly entertaining poem that has reminded we’re in the middle of hurricane season here in Texas.
Thank you so much, Susan! It’s gratifying to know that you understood my intent, and that the imagery was pleasing to you. I am rather a weather geek, but hurricanes scare me some! Do be careful…
I love the lyrical rhythm, I can feel the blistering heat in your detailed imagery. I especially am drawn to the the lines in the second stanza: Tilting for new lands to hold.
_But the earth is a merciless mistress
_When threatened with reckless conceit,
She who gives bounty withdraws her consent
_When mastery mandates defeat.
Your personification of Earth as a ‘mistress’ genius!
Thanks very much for taking the time to respond, Paulette! Your appreciation is appreciated!
I know something of the terrain of which the author speaks, because I have lived near it. And this poem pulls me back to my associations with the Llano Estacado.
Ah, I’m glad it resonated with you, C.B.! People often don’t understand the area’s beauty without immersing themselves in it for a bit. I’m glad it plucked a string in you.