We perceive strength in one another
and greedily grasp
at eroding rock,
clinging for stability
to shifting plates and shadows.
We take chisel to one another, and commend solidity.
Harsh strength amidst hardship.
The tremors work their way–
inside to out.
We see only the disruptive aftershocks played across the surface of the visage,
or none at all.
We run from
we have caused.
We comfort those running from the
Landslides they have caused.
But the Mover of the Mountains
Weeps for Lazarus and landslides, too.