The images out of the South are terrible, reminescent of the scarred, leveled wreckage of Hiroshima or Nagasaki--structures totally leveled and on the ground in little pieces. Unlike an earthquake that happens with no warning of the first tremor, a tornado must truly be a vision in the the gates of hell, a freight train in a full on rush howling to crush your home and suck up into a one way ticket to an early grave or riddle your body to shreds with debris moving at two hundred miles an hour. Hearts should go out to the victims but pride should go out to the survivors for they will rebuild and move on.
The South Will Rise Again
As humans we have erected the pyramids and built the Great Wall,
Add to that the Hanging Gardens and the Colossus of Rhodes standing tall,
With the Suez and Panama Canals, oceans we have linked
Hoover Dam, Golden Gate Bridge never a task from which we’ve shrinked
A pipeline to cross the arctic from Pt. Barrow to Valdez
A tunnel through the Channel to escape the waves and howling breeze
Our engineers seem not mortal but gods this earth to shape
From the ocean deep trenches to the lunar scape
Mother Nature has no choice but to yield
When we as humans put engineers and dollars into the field
Or does She? Did we count our chickens far too soon?
Images from Japan and our South of structures in total ruin
Our houses seem to have taken their blueprints from the pigs
As the lupine funnels blow, smashing all to pieces and into little twigs
It’s not a movie with popcorn to enjoy with your date
It is the black winds of hell knocking at your gate
Cars tossed into the heavens, roofs blown away
Crouching in the cellar, train coming right in your way
Mother Nature on a steroid windy rush, trumps any engineer
Any structure should its early demise, shake and fear.
Save one with so little protection it is almost a joke
Just a little force and it snaps and it broke
But not its heart and not its soul emerging from the structures dead
Already plans to restore and rebuild surging through its head
Parts of it may be Ground Zero, but the South will again rise
It may be bruised, battered and scarred but no demise
The US is a land of quakes, floods, volcanoes, fires, drought, blizzards and hurricanes
The only safe place is in your mind as Mother Nature may come but it will wane
But if I were in Tornado Alley my new home would not be the same
I might take the hint on how the howling funnels to try to tame
Build a home on cylinders to rise up to enjoy the view and sun
But would retract into the earth when the tornadoes had begun,
Or I would build my home into a hill of earth and concrete
The Winds of Fury I might then usually defeat
Or it becomes an RV on wheels with Doppler radar
To run fast from the winds spotted from afar
But whatever choice it might be, my life would go on
Blessing the ending of each night and the beginning of a new dawn
(c) April 28, 2011 Michael P. Ridley
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