The Tempest Speaks
Clouds collapse into themselves, a restless gathering on the horizon,
The air is thick with electricity and unseen pressure,
All at once, the sky cracks open—
A jagged brilliance, white and sharp,
Splits the darkness, rattling bones and silence.
Horizontal rain erupts—not drops, but sheets,
Carving the world into fragments,
Vision blurred and uncertain,
Wind screams, unbound by order,
Wrenches branches, hurls debris,
The world bends beneath its force,
A raw exhibition of nature’s indifference.
Windows pulse with thunder, trembling glass,
Lights flicker, shadows multiply,
Inside, a pulse—steady, instinctual,
Waits for the storm’s rage to subside,
For the hush to gather again at the door,
For the air to return, soft and clear.
The memory of chaos lingers, just beyond the pane.
Tempest Poetry Contest
1/20/2026
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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