Tornado!

It’s starting to be spring.

That can only mean one thing

In Oklahoma:

Tornadoes!

They come ripping through my dream,

Tearing the silkscreens down.

I see the bony skeletons, now,

Beneath the lovely skin of the homes so nicely in a row.

I see how the Age of Confusion has gained its ground,

How the facade was constructed.

We have some strange ideals 

That we ourselves we don’t understand.

Of how the land should appear,

And that it should appear as “ours,”

How “just so” we should build our houses on the sand.

The tornadoes show our weakness,

Our inability

To build anything that will last into 

The seventh generation.

But what if we could start to value 

The things that we can leave behind? Things like our Love,

Our experience, our Truth?

Yes, I wonder 

What might happen then.

-jenn