Weather Bird

There was a petrel, small and humble

Who lived on a volcano's rim

One day, he pondered

"What could I offer?"

To those who lived far under him

The legends say, day after day

He peeked inside and squawked away

"Two summers more, go plan before

The lava comes out to play!"

Creatures heard, the packs and herds

Looked up at the sky in awe

With their hopes raised

Their hero praised

Suddenly, he had it all

They said "Weather bird, oh, weather bird

What thanks could we give to you?"

And, flustered so

He sputtered "Oh,

I need nothing in return!"

The petrel gained disciples

But lonely he remained

And all was quiet

There was no riot

Until the fire rained

He grew to love, unlike the dove

A world of war to reap

Announcements were whispers

Foes reduced to whiskers

Because they were not his sheep

Creatures heard, the packs and herds

Looked up at the sky in awe

With their hopes raised

Opponents braised

They knew there would be a fall

They said "Weather bird, oh, weather bird

Which sacrifice pleases you?"

And, flustered so

He fibbed "No,

I never choose who to burn!"

One summer, he landed

And, though underhanded

His cult guarded him on the ground

Telltale rumbles sounded

And he was surrounded

Held down as the world was aflame

His wings were stampeded

His followers bleated

And he was the one to blame

They said "Weather bird, oh, weather bird

Why should we have trusted you?"

And, flustered so

He muttered "No!"

But silence was all it earned