a casualty is anything but.

How can it be that something so beautiful can be so deadly.  That from one side it can show itself as a gentle caress of morning, and the other have a raging fury imprinting fear and death all around it.  What philosophers and scientists ponder as the necessary marriage of good and evil seems too cruel to mention when wading through the aftermath of their row.

We fool ourselves into thinking we have tamed that which is not ours to tame.  Arrogantly referring to the forces, which were growing old before we had even a distant seed of life to claim our own, as our backdrop.  We market nature as a pleasing feature in our room with a view.  An amusement, there merely for our pleasure.   It is too easy to ignore that which does not have words to speak.  To dismiss that which lacks blood in its veins, let alone veins themselves.

The ocean cannot be blamed for making waves, just as the land cannot be blamed for moving.  It is in their nature to do so.  The Earth does not mean to harm us because it does not consider us.  We are not attacked as a foe, but reacted to as a catalyst.  In truth it would be easier to be ravaged by one’s enemy, a force which can be fought or brought to justice.

There is no winner or loser here, just a gaping collective wound.