A hurricane begins as a depression—
small, unseen turbulence deep at sea,
spiraling up from the dark ocean,
drawing power from everything it finds.

The only safety from the storm
is higher ground:
a place to wait and watch
as the violence surges through.

You cannot resist a hurricane.
The structures you’ve built cannot stand.
It will rip the roof from the strongest house
and tear your cities to the ground.

Before you rebuild your defenses, wait.
Beneath these cold foundations,
your true nature waits.

A hurricane cannot resist seagrass and salt marsh
or destroy the soft sand of the dunes. 
Its winds are powerless before
those things that can bend.

These are your true belongings; 
all you are, and all you need:
the soft ground of your open heart,
your arms outstretched to feel the rain.