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The storm comes less often now,
Come it does.
Cyclical… Circular… predictable in its pattern.
It’s been a while dear friend.
 
            The sun so bright-
                        Harder to find you these days
 
Memories slow my step suddenly.
Seizing my mind as our past flashes upon a wall.
Compelled… Consumed… by these morsels of time.
Times when immortality we feigned.
     
               This is the calm –
                        The beginning of the storm
 
Clouds gather upon the horizon.
The earthy smell of its coming is heavy… heavy upon a familiar breeze.
Ah yes… the breeze that seems cooler than it should.
I draw deeply on this… this sweeping scent of eternity’s veil.
 
            The clouds grow –
                        Shadows and sunlight struggle before me
 
All warmth escapes my aura.
I am immersed.
Frantically… Languidly… into the coming of the storm.
Welcome is this diversion… shade from the invading sun.
 
            My mind surrenders –
                       Souls grasping across time for the other
 
Peculiar is the searing peace which accompanies the pall.
Only here in the shadows do I… Can I…
Betray… Embrace… the extent of my pain.
Mundane detail is lost in the altered light.
 
            The storm is upon me –
                        Within me
 
It arrives with intensity. The winds rage…
Between us.
Deafening… Silent… reprieve from the tainted melody.
The almost honest lyrics of my daily stage.
           
                Thunder claps –
                        This encore overdue
 In the windows of my soul. The salty rain…
Begins to fall.
Welling… Streaming… down the valleys of my contorted mask
I welcome the pain… for in it is your smile.
 
            It lasts until –
                     Its over
 
It is in the storm that I find you. Little brother…
Leading me forward.
Laughing… Reaching… You bring forever to my eye.
I gleefully let you go again. One eye upon the horizon of always.
           
            I see you little brother –
                     Receding within me
 
 The shadows persist. The winds no longer rage…
Warm is the breeze.
Comforting… Teasing… as the soul-glow rushes not to leave.
The violent outpour but a misty drizzle.
 
The storm comes –
            Less often now
 
 I miss you most as you leave. Pain becomes peace…
In the wake.
Squinting… Basking… I welcome the glare of the sun.
It seems brighter each time… your shadow grows longer.
 
            Until the next storm –
                        We live
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