Whirling devils, spawns of windcrash,
Yawning hapless clones of the atmosphere,
Purged colossal goblins inchoate,
Released from fennels stirred by the ire
Of Gaia's minions working overtime
Through the blackened clouds above.
Lightning strikes, thunder crashes,
The hail pummels the plains,
Golf balls of ice flood the sea of grain.
The Earth rages, cutting paths of death
Through the heartland we hold dear,
Aiming for us, but missing too often.
Houses shredded, cars upturned,
Signs strewn all over the bleached grassland,
Animals slaughtered before we could,
Other debris unrecognizable to anyone.
A battle for survival has started,
And we are the aggressors, ignorant
Enough to doubt her existence,
Humble enough to consider her voice,
A cold thing that silenced the sky at dusk.
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Tornado Alley
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