Every night before going to bed: Mieke shut her eyes & imagined the terrain of the plains
She seed herself sowing the bed: spudding the vine and dragging her rake through the grains
Nightmares of the locust kept, covers high, barricading her face, raising her blanket: afraid of her fate
The sound of the locust’s legs, sputtered to fly, the invasion of maize: the entire country side was decimated and plagued
Mieke woke up in a sweat, and laid awake—with her mattress drenched, she couldn’t fall back to bed
Perspiration ingrained.
Acres of devastation decayed. Mieke watched as the last locusts back legs chafed & then frayed
The swarming insects faded, then scaped: grainy and vague: off into the distance, she could still feel the wings vibrating her way
The insect had gotten lost in the tomatoes and grapes
Before it got its bearings, settling down, on top of the bale on top of the hay in the shade
Mieke walked straight for the stable and made a bee line for the Young Grass Hoppers sun-bathing-display
It swayed, swaying in the radiation and rays— unaware of Mieke watching, enraged and amazed
The grace on its face: took Mieke back to her babying ways: back when she would wait to play in the malaise of the haze
Wind raced through the glades— as Mieke grabbed the insects by its wings, before it sprang from the blade—
The Young Grasshopper levitated and swang on-to the base of the Daisy, before it fragrantly waned
The locusts regurgitated the nitrates and deteriorated the gate. The leaf's & the petals were misshapen & ate
Mieke tended the fields, she was raised on the plains, with a spade and a grain
Radiating like the oscillation of rays, sweat dripping off of her body: clayed, and then caked
The water had gotten so scarce— they couldn’t irrigate or spray, which lead to the cultivation of waste, contamination and blame
They depended on the precipitation to bathe: to sanitation their drain, to domesticate their game and wash mange off their strays
The duration of their dismay lasted throughout the summer, day by day, the drought made Cape Town suffer
Mieke waited for the condensation to came, but the formation delayed: Mieke waited and prayed
"The lake may evaporate at this rate, until what remains is grave, water receding, excavating their frame
Mieke's generation is waking up to their basins and their banks, desiccated and baked: Mieke, braves the blaze, they used to wade to their waist
Global warming has had a profound impact on the populating race: Mieke & Cape Town are unsure of how to mitigate the glaze
Mieke's eyes began to well up, in a state of pain, as she lowered the container into the purification tank, her eyes welling up, as she yanked on the chain
Raising the dank bucket out of the depreciating estate without a trace in the tray— barely enough water to sustain a vase of bouquets—
The widespread shortage of water caused all of the farmers to fall into desperation and faith
The Cicadas raged, as she made her way through deforestation, dehydrated and faint
Day dreaming of water, salivation insane: Sweat, is the only thing Mieke tasted for days
Trying to keep up her weight and her strength, Mieke savored every sip she was able to take
The day came when Mieke came face to face with the grazing fangs of the locust, before it aviated away—
Mieke finally understood the insect and no longer felt jaded with hate: she too felt too dazed to escape—
Instead of macerating with her rake, Mieke sympathized with the young grass hoppers insatiable pangs
The farmers daughter remembered, playing with raid, waving the spray, fumigation of planes: contemplating her fate
Mieke, shedded a tear, and the Locust thankfully drank— its antennas, perked up, and its waxy wings reverberated with haste
It impatiently waited, unafraid of the razoring rays
The facial expression renegaded blank, as it paced and paced, and debated, whether, to vacate or remain—
Fazed in the rays. The farmers daughters animals stayed and neighed, as drinking water got lower, emaciated their gains
Mieke kneeled down and prayed to her saints, placing her faith, at the flood gates, as the Insect, looked at Mieke: animated and craned
Mother Nature behaved: The clouds began to look grey and strange— her eyes strained to relate
The heat wave of methane made way for the precipitation to break, Mieke, waited decades for salvation to came
As Mieke felt a single droplet graze her bangs. All the insects serenaded and sang—
Her fair weather friends waved and made, carbon footprints, and elevated away—
Together, we're capable of reversing climate changes today
Cape Town’s, saving grace, was, Mieke, that lady prayed for the rain