We are not LIKE nature.
We are not its metaphor,
or its distant cousin.
We ARE nature
with weather in our chests
and seasons in our bones.
There is no shame in thunder.
No guilt in the shaking of the ground.
No moral failure in the crashing of a wave.
A storm does not apologize.
An earthquake does not explain itself.
A tsunami does not wonder if it was too much.
There is only this:
It happened.
And then—
The ground settles.
The waters recede.
Lush green fields return once again.
Nature does not linger in self-attack.
Nor does it narrate catastrophe into an identity.
It does not rehearse the past or panic about the future.
Only the human mind does that.
Only the human mind takes a moment of simple, raw movement
and turns it into a story of wrongness;
a verdict, an auto-biography of fear.
But beneath that story,
Life is still doing what it has always done:
expanding, repairing, demolishing, creating,
and learning new ways to bloom.
When we remember that we are not separate from this—
not broken, not failing, not being punished…
the suffering softens.
And we, like the earth itself,
are renewed, grown, and expanded—
again,
and again,
and again.