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The Tsunami

Centuries of oppression

And the anger screams to the surface like a tsunami ready to destroy everything in its path

It is when the grounding she trusts deceives her

She is labeled the destructor of man, and his structures and celebrations

She is called a disaster

Yet she was once the ocean

The beautiful blue ocean

And as long as they could take a dip

Swim in her when they wanted

As long as she looked pretty

And never caused anything more than a small wave

A wave that they could safely surf over, until it was smooth again

Calm again.

She was beautiful

She was the ocean they bought their mansions for

So they could look at the view while they smoked their cigars and celebrated themselves

Patting each other on the back.

But when her plates were shifted

When her grounding was taken from her

When her trust was destroyed

And her fury could no longer be contained

She would be called the enemy.

The disaster.

The destructor of man.

Nobody questioned what man had done

What sins he had committed to her earth

Her soil, her nature

They only blamed her, named her,

And frantically scurried to dry land

To escape her and clean up her destruction

So that man could continue in his revolting, dominant privilege.

Listen to her. She must be heard. She deserves to be heard.