Why do you live your life
so cantankerously
over a distorted reflection
but expire over Land?
Is it because
you can no longer see
the lapping exaggeration
on an Earth
who is not like you?
Flogging and battering Waters
who only reflect
your bruised
and twisted self
you rage and hover
and tear down
sucking up and spitting out
the reflection
not knowing the reflection
you see
is yours.
What enrages you so
when it’s only
yourself you see?
Could it be something
you don’t want to be?
So you spit, and you hurl
and you carry on
until
you’re over a land
no longer inspired
as your lost confession.
Now you linger
flash
and blow into tears
onto the first land you see.
You must have figured out by now
as you slow to quiet over the land
that the Water
is another part of you
and of her.
And even though
her edges are reflected
on the shores of duplicate
it doesn’t madden her so.
She is mother earth
who knows her terra
is firma.
She doesn’t change daily
with the wind.
Oh she may shed
pieces of her skin
in your squall
but
she is solid and steadfast
as she always returns to the sun
and she learns from the rain
a condition of her growth
to be her wisdom.
Your remnants
now a bandage of cloud
pour down Waters
that reflect you
and the cycle continues.
Hurricane,
why can’t you see
the reason you twist
inside yourself.
What you can’t accept
is yourself you see.
LauraLee K. Harris
