Intersections, Thunderstorms and No Sense of Direction

Nature's Heart

Have you ever thought that nature is trying to communicate with you, or with each other? The rain tapping unfamiliar morse codes; the trees whispering through it's numerous leaves; the fire cackling at our antics; the earth keeping you grounded and supported; the wind helping the trees mutter, sending it's own brushes of comfort towards those who need it.

But there are times where nature is tired; feeling deprived of attention, deprived of love; and it rolls into fustration. The nature's heart breaks, and it desperatly tries to get what it needs.

Who are we to fight what we caused?

It forcefully pulls, forcefully takes, and gets more then it wants, destroying each other. Water falls down with force, beating us like arrows. Branches slam continuously onto our walls, being driven by the wind that pushes and pulls and spins until there is no more. Bright red climbs higher and higher, eating what it can and sending signals for others to see up the sky. The soil cracks and splits, showing the depths inside and the condition it's been in for so long. And after nature has sapped, drained and drank it's fill, the heart and mind clears, it's strength dies down, and it realizes the damage it's caused. Guilt overtakes, as nature sees the remains of it's brothers and sisters on the ground. They ripped each other to pieces, and fought and fought and fought, without knowing who until they themselves have perished.

Nature weeps, and gives back it's care and comfort towards those who try to fix it back to what it was. But they can never turn back time, and some holes are to remain. The hands of a clock turns, and slowly nature rebulids itself. It goes back to communicating, soaking whatever attention it gets, and the cycle once again begins.