The sky begins to darken and tear-
I pray my brothers above will guard me-
They are dying themselves, those near and dear-
Cold and wet, I cling to my mother’s wood knee-

My voice is unheard, I am blown to the ground-
It takes two seconds but feels eternal-
My freefall ends, wet slap to a dirt mound-
Mother weeps, her children die, no revival-

I yearn for the warmth of the golden sun-
To dry, sweet breeze carry me back to-
My wooden home so, again, I’ll become-
Boy among brothers, son of mother too-

It can never be, for Nature is God-
And death must exist for life to go on~