Almost midday amidst
The coming of the storm
A gathering of forces
Pushing hard to be seen
The relentless stillness
Waiting for an inkling of
A final frozen night.
The explosive roar of a jet
No, just the wind
Hurling and spitting
Gusts of breath beginning
To deepen and rip apart
Structures not cemented
Or bolted down.
The grumbling creek traversing
Live oaks, boulders and debris
Shreds the earth revealing
Once concealed roots
Now bare for all to see,
Tangled in utter chaos
A glimpse into tomorrow
Alas, another fallen tree.
The wind falls limp
Back into docility.
While leaves and limbs
Withhold judgement
Releasing anger as if
Mesmerized by millions of
Muses and thoughts of the human
Collective, quietly engaged
In their individualized
Perception of life.
Mother earth weeps, her
Crystallized tears wash
Away the betrayal,
Disregard, ignorance,
Disrespect, all in the name
Of love and creation.
Once again anticipating
Winter's end,
The return of Spring,
Wildflowers, and
Human kindness.
Laurie B. Ballard
April 4, 2024