The Rinkiks and Siv

Part I

Once the world ended
Universes opened up,
Few things turn splendid
Like the best of bad luck.
Siv rode a lump of her planet
Through the twinkling unknown,
But as chance would have it
She wasn’t alone.
Her clump was well loaded
With plants and their beasts
And a spring where there boated
The oldest of yeasts
Who boasted of breads
That they’d baked for king’s feasts,
Though now they preferred to make great jammy rolls
That cooled as they tumbled down to the east.
Here Siv met the Rinkiks of whom
Their hunger must be much admired,
They climbed in the rolls at their jammy bloom
And ate their way out in a manner inspired.
The Rinkiks asked young Siv if she’d stay
And she turned to herself to find out as well –
“Why, yes, I think I just may
Settle myself with you for a spell.”

Part II

Once the world ended
The Rinkiks found Siv,
With all else upended
And little to give
They left where they sat
And walked their whole chunk
In three minutes flat
Just to see they were sunk.
Or sinking, at least,
(Was their rock all springs?)
From a storm to the east
(To the east were all things).
The one spring they had
Had bubbled a cloud
That turned thunder mad
And was now spitting proud.
The Rinkiks climbed up to sit on Siv’s head,
With permission of course
They brought their fine breads
And picnicked in force
Along with a newt
Who introduced himself with:
“You may call me Bragoot
Pleurodelinae the Fifth.”

Part III

Universes opened up
When number five Bragoot
Said with jam on lower lip,
“We’ve an ocean underfoot.”
Siv and Kiks looked down
To have a dream come true,
They saw straight through the ground
To a tiny ocean blue.
A frozen sea now on the thaw,
A droplet full of flashing fin,
Awaking to the silver law
That all things do and do not end.
Siv grabbed some passing log-like loaves
That floated in from eastern shores,
She bound them with strips of her clothes
And handed out some waffle oars.
Bragoot slipped off, his picnic done,
The Rinkiks settled on the raft,
Feeding turtles bits of bun
So they wouldn’t eye their craft.
They ran up the Rinkik flag
(A Rinkik painted blue and white)
And as their bonny banner wagged
They named their ship The Happy Bite.

Part IV

Few things turn splendid
Without some baked goods
And any Kik would be offended
If you refused their foods.
While they only came up to Siv’s toes
They’d fight you with a fury
That only a war god knows,
And sure, their honor may be blurry
And they will judge you as jumbled
And shout you down to their level,
But we all need to be humbled
And they are caring devils.
The Happy Bite was the rare boat
That wouldn’t have a chance to sink,
For the very thing that made it float
Paired perfect with cocoa drink.
Someone had nibbled up their raft
(Every one of them had been)
Till there was no more fore or aft
And it was time to swim again.
As they did, a squid was kicked,
Squid taught them how to fly,
Siv left her chunk with her Rinkiks,
Going back out with the tide.

Part V

Like the best of bad luck
They soared with aimless grace
As band of merry schmucks
Through full and nameless space.
While Siv lost another world
The Kiks settled into theirs,
They’d been tossed, flung over, hurled,
And joyed in cutting airs,
Enjoyed that feeling where
They were a lineless kite
Without an anchor or a care –
The called Siv The Happy Flight.
And Siv was a happy one,
Dragging fingers through the stars,
Sipping comets just for fun,
Scooping moonfuls into jars.
They caught the tinkling of the twinklers,
The deep crashing nova drums,
The steady strings of boundless thinkers,
Love’s heartfelt and filling hums.
They joined the cosmic chorus,
Flinging their own cosmic rays
Back out into the dark forest
Joining in the song of praise.

Part VI

Siv drifted with the push and pull
And pushed and pulled a little too,
Searched but never saw black holes,
Though they went through a few.
The Rinkiks noticed first
A planet rising in the east
That sucked them in with a grave thirst
And wouldn’t let them be released.
The Rinkiks and Siv settled in
For the quick, hard thump
Of them hitting the planet then
Riding out on their new clump.
They got up to go explore
Another brand new home
And found it had a fiery core
And was kindly honeycombed
So there were small volcano hills
Everywhere they bravely looked,
Each one giving scrumptious smells
As something dreamy cooked.
Once the world ended
Universes opened up,
Few things turn splendid
Like the best of bad luck.