VESUVIUS SPEAKS

She growls from the back of her throat,
a low guttural noise
more biology than music.
She erupts. It is her nature to do so.

She shakes, energy mounting.
Boulders tumbling with the ease
of pollen in a spring breeze.
Her colors no longer hidden.

Pay attention to nature.
What appeared to be hard rock flows,
warmer than tears down you cheek,
and as necessary.

Both stillness and motion
requisite for her life.
It is as simple as that.

She reminds us of centers and cores,
jogs our memory of power and force.
We cannot all be still mountains,
tenacious to the point of tedium.
Some of us break our stride
by way of remembering motion.

Vesuvius speaks.
She says, I am a volcano.
It is in my nature to erupt.