Human Nature
Human Nature marks the start of a new era of poetry for Writer Shayanne, and it was one of the first pieces I penned after a lengthy burnout. At a glance, you may think that it’s about the many qualities and characteristics that come naturally to humans, but the poem actually focuses on our tendency to look for human emotion in nature (pathetic fallacy).
Once upon a time, you may have gripped a crayon in your hands and coloured the sun with a smile on its face, or perhaps you’ve come home after a long day at work/school, only to realize that the thunderstorm outside seems to reflect the mess in your mind.
Poets often turn to nature for comfort because they feel misunderstood, and thus, they search for meaning in the very things that are beyond their control, like the murmur of the wind and the pitter-patter of raindrops on the ceiling. I am certainly no exception, and my love for the Romantic poets reveals itself in my writing.
Human Nature
There are times when overcast skies betray trouble on the horizon,
when it seems as though the rumble of thunder afar and overhead
can do nothing but cry out in your stead.
There are times when raging rain unleashes its fury out in the open,
pouring endlessly, knowing not how to show emotion,
for nothing may hope to soothe the fresh ache of heartbreak.
There are times when foamy waves tumble toward moonlit shores
in search of the unknown, longing for warmth or something more
to anchor them in the face of the loneliness only they know.
There are times when sorrowful sun cannot force itself to rise,
blocked out by hailstorm and endless dark skies,
silently hoping for a stranger to heed its cries.
There are times when bitter frost bites into bare heels,
tinged with hurt, harm, and hatred, loathing how it feels
remorse for what cannot be undone yet still seeking courage
for change that has only just begun.
For there are times when nature becomes one with a beating heart,
when every droplet of rain becomes a reminder of past pain,
and one harbors hope for a hand to hold or even the touch of a kindred soul,
and so, nature prays, as do we, for something we do not know,
and so, it pours and pours, stronger than before.
