When the flea fights the storm
flying angrily into its eye
to face her enemy
and seek to tame it
to conquer its wild fury
when the flea makes war
against an empire of environment
the storm does not laugh.
It does not ridicule the flea
nor disrespect her.

The storm in all its power
accepts the sacrifice of its enemy
as a noble combatant
and does what it can
to destroy the flea
as best it is able.

Usually, the storm wins.
Sometimes,
the flea rides the storm,
tames it,
leaves the weather wasted by the flea’s will
and they part,
if not friends,
then at least mutually respectful.

The entire ritual
is respectful
and has lasted
as long as fleas and storms
have coexisted
and will continue
so long as the two reside together.

Would that humans
in their war with the weather
could be respected quite so well
by their enemy.