december 10

a cold front blew in

it was sixty degrees

in mid december

a cold heart

ravaged the grim

into everything

the twisted mind

of the tornado wind

grinded

swirled

across the land

like a wood chipper

had hijacked

the black

black sky

a blur of gone mad

someone said

is god angry

at man

is it a punishment

a beating

from an unloved hand

or merely consequences

from how we have lived

the miracle of us

is growing dim

we stand at the rim

hate and bicker

while the garden dies

we have worried so

about the apple

and blamed eve

yet look at the world

we have conceived

all the people i love

are here

the places i love

are here

there is no other place

no other home

i now live in fear

if mayfield is a preview

of what is to come

oh how i fear

oh what have we done

all the dead people

the animals lost

the cost is more than

thoughts and prayers

it demands

we become in tune

aware

i hear this in my head

again and again

the forest was shrinking

but the trees

kept voting for the axe

for the axe was clever

and convinced the trees

that because his handle

was made of wood

he was one of them

the ax is not them

not them

i feel the dread

we must honor these dead

we must leave our crazy head

and love her

our mother earth

love her back again

the garden

inside ourselves

the heartbeat

spinning in the universe

blue and green

you and me

us and them

the ax

its handle wood

is not our friend

~ patty and turkish proverb

Art — ”tornado” by amy marx