When I was young I had a dream
that I made friends with a whirlwind:
I sat on its eye and went for a ride,
observing its destruction.

I asked the whirlwind on our ride,
"why carve a path where all you go?"
And then the whirlwind said to me,
"now, friend, it's not that simple."

"You see, my winds are dear to me,
my rain more of the same
but what, dear boy, I cannot stand
is who took more away."

"When man arrived they'd flame and land
and I possessed the skies and seas
but as man learned the boons I held
that flame burned in their bellies."

"Their greed controlled them, seeking more
and more was not enough;
all the earth they'd claimed as theirs
and they set the earth aflame."

"Man had the earth but not the seas
and skies had still remained with me
then when my boons were lost to them
they switched to different tactics."

"They poisoned all my skies and seas,
coal smoke black and oil slicked surf,
and now this wind and rain remain
as spirits of my skies and seas."

"So my rampage is revenge
to those who killed my skies and seas,"
and with those words the whirlwind silenced
proceeding on their rampage.

I pondered this for quite some time,
"so why, then, take me for this ride
if all you show is death to mine
for what mine did so long in past;

what words are left for me?"

"Because," the whirlwind said to me,
"unless you speak no one will see
that this destruction is in grief
for mine who died in vain."

"So go! Tell all of what I've said!
Fight for the rain, my rain and wind,
so one day skies and seas return
with life held to their bosoms."