A large object
Looms out of the water.
Its mechanical eyes
Search the bottom
Far below.
Thirstily it drinks the oil,
The power, the money.
Tiny spots on deck
Run this machine.
They grow larger and larger
Until they too are mechanical.
Pressured to probe,
To search, and work.
Drilling until light fades.
And, their daily quota met,
Slump tiredly into bed.

Their lives continue day after day,
And as days turn to seasons
The weather gets colder,
More bitter, and biting.
December winds lead to
The new year’s storms
That fill the next month
With fear and apprehension.
"Will drilling be stopped?"
"Will we lose much money?"
Power and wealth
Is all they talk about.
But drilling goes on
Despite strong winds that lash out
To rock the rig
And furl the sea
In angry currents in the air.

One month passes
And now the worst is over.
Storms die down and leave the sea
To disappear with the wind
That strangely becomes quiet;
Warm and calm, but different.
All minds are relieved
And become calm like the wind.
No one suspects that nature is plotting.
Her quietness is a farce
To cover plans of destruction.
Then suddenly the air erupts
With monstrous fury.
A gigantic storm approaches
Ready to maim, to destroy, to kill.

And in their dreams they are falling
On a tilted, rocking floor.
But it is no longer a dream.
Shocked awake by the sudden cold
And an icy fluid
That enters their mouths and eyes.
Freezing wind hits their bodies
As they run to nowhere
And fall into an empty void.
Panic and dread explode within them.
Screams of terror, cries of fear
Are lost to the wailing winds.
The men are as wild as animals.

Struggling in the deep waves,
Arms failing to support
The weak and tired body.
Rain falls, splashing on wet faces.
Wild eyes scream terror
That cannot come from the lips
That are frozen with fear.
Prayers are mumbled, then shouted.
Cries to God are ripped from their lips
Then lashed in the wind
And destroyed by the rain.
"Have mercy", "Our Father", "Hail Mary".
Anything to escape the torture
Of a suffocating death.
Water drowns and steals
The very breath that was once
Taken for granted.

No one hears their cries.
No one reaches out a hand
To help the struggling forms
That are tossed helplessly
Into the freezing ocean.
Nature sees, but she wails on,
Laughing in her cruel way
That strengthens the storm
And causes even more destruction.
The men cannot escape nature’s punishment,
But they fight and grab
For all that is theirs.
Wanting nothing but life,
Breath and pulse.
But all this is jerked away
So violently and horribly
Until no one is left
To cry out in pain
Against the wind and the ocean
And the rain and the snow.

A broadcast on the radio.
A cruel letter of indifference.
"A terrible storm; no survivors".
Pain cannot be felt
As numbness crawls in
To freeze the body, heart and soul.
Feelings are washed away
By dull throbs that start in the chest.
Heartache – it feels this way.
Losing a loved one,
A son, a husband.
Everything is gone, nothing to live for.
They mourn with the wind.
Wails and cries are lost in the air
And are carried across the sea
To the place of that final night –
That damned hour –
When life ceased and eternity began.
And darkness envelopes all
As, one by one, they close their eyes
To the senselessness of it all;
"The Tragedy of Nature".

©Karen Chappell