The streets are full of cars again,
People crowd the pavement
As silence is dispersed.
I walk out of the village.
The wind is blowing great gusts
Fit to blow me off my feet
As nature vents its fury
That we are loose.
The sky is dark,
Laden with volcanic clouds,
Unleashing great forces of frustration.
As the rage tears through them.
But those trees are ambivalent
Maybe recognising a sympathetic soul?
First they hurl sticks
Then shower me in blossom.
After a brief interlude away
We are back,
And nature is displeased.
We’ve had a taste
Of the medicine at her disposal.
What tricks will she unleash next?
Surely there are lessons to be learnt?
Opher – 23.5.2020