Lightning strikes a jagged path
through the sky and it leaves
no scar behind.

Seas parts a fleet of ships
Then seals itself as if they were
never there.

But the earth keeps a history of old wounds
Cut by rivers,
scared by ice.

Passions stored at its core erupt
and tensions at the edge
crack and shake.

The mountain holds the sky,
the harbor holds the sea,
what holds all is me.