Yet Storms Without

Without feet firmly planted on the earth One becomes subject to the whim Of the winds’ free flow No choice, nary chance to stop The eternal dance of life Without the sense of Floor Without our head/ spirit in the sky Upright, alert, and peering forward and wide We can lose sight of the valent reality The invisible present which surrounds The sacred space wherein we grow In which our common presence abounds Without Love and Compassion Resident in our Heart We have no compass, And only arbitrary direction Yet storms will still occur In the air, on the ground, And within connection Take in stock the air, the ground, the things unseen Know not fear, rather rely on that as we know in deed; Just as we live, we live out our chosen dream