You see the fruits upon the trees
But nothing of the seeds
The painful rise above the ground
The strangling of the weeds
You gaze out upon the lazy lakes
And hear not the rushing noise
That river water and gravel makes
Feeding it from far away
You simply love the summer rain
But know not of the way
The tears of gods precipitate
Someplace above the gray
You look in wonder at glacial ice
Not knowing how all the time
It shudders and crumbles and it dies
From the burden of itself
I am the earth; I quake and heave
You see mere pools, not reservoirs
Of seeping fury when I breathe
My violent anger from my floors