Naturalist's Manifesto

Cars flash by,
Diesel and Gas,
Coolant and Rubber,
On Asphalt and Heat Scorched Sand,
All Pulled from Deep Bowels,
Of this Home,

Lights Flash and Flicker,
Synthetic Lightning Bugs of Defiance,
To the Turning of this Great Blue Green Ball,
Gnats and ants on our secure, seductive flotilla,
In the midst of an ancient plan,
That continues to roll and roil and revolve,

Above the mayhem of confusion,
Cumulus rolls with a fury,
The sleeping fatalistic giant,
With a wall of wet torrent,
Sheeting across a dark sky,

Our tiny egos and racing and raging and ruckus,
Reduced to slippery, invigorating coolness in an instant,
Trees cower and printed bits of our madness blow,
And the gnats turn their heads to avoid the fury,
As fierce winds breathe,
And soiled tears fall,
This power of eons rakes across the landscape as if to say,
"Remember me; time still belongs to me,"