The Brief Peace

The damage is accumulating here
Within the path of wind, and heavy rain
Whenever Mother Nature makes it plain
That she is still a deity.  The fear
That anyone remaining mightn’t live
Or anything, remaining as it was
Before the wind destroys it, as it does,
Will topple, isn’t something we forgive,
Or pardon.  We accept it; that is all.
The biggest acts of violence around
That run us to the church and in the ground
Are still enough, that when they may befall
Us, in our very helplessness, alas,
We run, and hide, and wait for her to pass.