Light of the Storm
It is as if the world is upside down.
The ground is too light,
in comparison
to the too dark sky.
The fiercest,
boldest,
shades in nature,
clash together.
They form the
brightest
streak of golden brilliance
ever imaginable.
In that sea of darkness
I can see vibrant,
energized,
light.
At my perch by the windowsill
I can watch the world around me
thrash in rage.
But… it passes by.
Leaving the world
new,
refreshed,
soothed.
I take one step
into the
world outside,
and then another.
The ground feels soft
beneath my feet.
The grass slicker than
the finest silk.
The air that seeps
into my lungs with each
heave and ho
of my chest.
Is cleaner than
any air I’ve breathed
In a long time.
So, I sit.
I tuck my feet beneath me,
Criss-crossed and Indian style,
taking more of
those cleansing breaths.
And I think
and remember...
If this is
what it is like
after every surge of rage,
every clash of nature’s emotions.
It should storm
more often.
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