We are one with nature.
Our violence is inbred in bedrock,
tectonic plates of culture collide
creating mountains we must climb,
or stand near shore
uncertain of our fate
as waves of fear beat down
upon our hard edges
crumbling into gravel,
then sand,
until we sink or swim
against or within
the currents
our violence
set in motion.
Seldom do we slide past one another
without disturbing ions and eons
of distrust, and if we absolutely
must,
speak breezily and brazenly
of our superiority
to hide the cave of sunken
hopes and expectations
we stand above.
We cannot excavate.
We cannot illuminate
in full sun and favor
our hidden treasure
without a tether to another,
for safety’s sake
and our very survival.
annarino writes 