Monsoon

I am the stream,
tripping down the trail
that Nature so lovingly
grooved out for me.
That sweet goddess steers my journey,
and flashes in my eyes
the picture of my pure pettiness
for I am vined to her essence,
even when I try to rip my heartstrings from
her pain, that I escape
through Man’s most poisonous inventions.
But I am the monsoon-
roaring,
drowning,
overpowering,
moulding the land in my image,
for I am the path I carve
out of Nature’s crumbling crags.
I, the multitudinous Man
hold the deepest roots
of Gaia’s weave
torn in my fist.
Dear Nature-
we make each other so selfishly,
we unbend all beauty
in our mutual ruining.