Field Blob
They puzzle me confuse
Then the riddle gets solved
And you push me up to this
State of emergency"
Joga was born with the earth. She grew as an infant volcano as the air turned from toxic fumes to one which could begin to support life. It took such a millennium for the magma pressure underneath Joga to increase, that she was able to recognize it, and ignore it. This self-awareness grew, until Joga could see the world grow with her, through all the generations of life.Other volcanoes seemed to not bother staying the magma pressure, erupting violently. Every time, the result was the same; they erased both their own life, and of everything around them.
Now able to see with her own eyes, and her own life, Joga mused that perhaps these smaller volcanoes hadn’t been around long enough to even realize they could prevent such a disaster.
And so, she waited. So long did Joga wait, that the land around her grew from rocky, steaming fields to a dense forest. Her long fingers sprouted with lava, and Joga’s barren hair was tamed into a beautiful rush of green down the side of her head. At the edge of the thick pine trees amidst her feet, plains full of wildflowers blossomed and bloomed. Deer frolicked in the fields, and birds chirped to and from among the trees. Oh how she loved this beautiful land beneath her.
For many years Joga was happy to watch the life thrive in her roots. And yet, there was a growing ache, a want to be able to touch and hold this amazing landscape she loved so much. Generations came and went, and finally, she couldn’t help herself.
She finally moved, reaching out to touch the flowers, the trees, the birds, the grass; and the pressure that had lay dormant for so long, finally escaped.
Ash exploded into the air, a burning, choking cloud that raced across her colorful lands and turned them to lifeless grey.
As the eruption scalded the earth, Joga felt her own life beginning to ebb. For but a moment she had held her lands- but now was doomed to watch them be destroyed.
A final pensive thought meandered through the volcano’s mind as she faded…
Perhaps the younger volcanoes had merely wanted to touch the beauty, as she had. And now, she was meeting their same fate.
Her last glimpse of the world gave her comfort though, a group of beautiful pink flowers sprouting amidst the ash that had settled.
writing by
Frodeprofile by
art by
Naddibackgrounds from colourlovers.com