Ideals of the Storm

by William Allen

Before there was you,
Before there was me,
There was the Storm.
She does not hunt for a kill.
She does not desire your destruction.
She does not seek to ruin.
She is a wanderer
And has been for millions of years.

She is also a teacher.
We disrespect her with the careless toss of a bottle.
We fill her ears with words of promise that we do not mean.
She is a lesson.
We block our ears with the roar of an engine.
We blind ourselves with eyes covered in smog.
She is a test,
One that we have failed.