Children of Sorrow
I’m thinking of Floridians in the path of this monster
Nature has a dark side, and when that anger breaks loose, it is with unprecedented force and everything in its way it will reap its destruction. My heart and hopes are with the people of Florida as Ian acquires even more violence, wanting to unleash its fury, casting misery for days ahead.
People evicted from their homes to run for safety, not knowing when or if they can return to their homes. Land will slip, trees will fall, electricity will fail, all of which will mean less if bodies are not swept away, but safe.
I think about the livestock, running helter-skelter for safety, washed down rivers, unable to help themselves, for in a brief moment the land will change, havens disappear, as water displays its awesome power.
Day will turn to night, debris will fly, roofs, sheds, cars float away.
The wild fury that is Ian will not abate in Sympathy, it will not apologize, or concern itself with the dead. It will sing its destruction, whistling its way inland, raising the waters, pulling down homes, washing memories away.
It will not care for your favorite upholstered chair, the table covered in green cloth, but transport them with joy. It will pick up prayers, steeples, and with laughing heels sing a vicar’s swan song.
Ian is a leviathan, it knows no delicacy, but with crumbling efficiency and from its dark depths, this rutted behemoth will tangle lines, lift whirlpools, until happy that it has created ancient ruins and we are all children of sorrow.
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