Weathering the Storm – Part 1
There’s a storm brewing outside
(my heart, my soul)
are black as night.
The wind picks up
(my agitation surges)
and lightning flashes in the distance
memory of a current of life within my body
or a flash of suppressed anger.
My porch plants
(my body, mind and soul)
sway and bend in the wind
flexing, always flexing, never breaking.
My wind chimes
sway and sing and dance
(love songs in a summer breeze, heavy metal in a frantic frustration).
I am filled with anticipation of the storm.
A storm that might capture me
or blow me away
or take me away
or move me, replant me.
Or destroy me
(my house, my weighty anchor, my burden)
And in destroying me
perhaps the storm will renew me
like a wildfire that burns in spite of the storm
impervious and giving birth
to new, vigorous growth, new life
stronger than before the fire.
Weathering the Storm – Part 2
(days, months, years)
have now passed.
The storm has changed its course
(how many times now?)
Should I go to sleep, wait for morning?
Should I close my eyes, wait to see if I’m free?
Or stay awake?
Alert and hopeful, wishing carefully.
Unplug my electronics, my brain
wait to see if the storm will pass me by
as it always does
as tomorrow always comes.
A new day.
Every day is a new day.