Children of the storm

Something happens before the storm

A calm frenzy

Impatient and welcoming, a visitor too much hoped for,

Mother, who nurses us with her tears.

 

The animals roll over, call out in song

We claimed the land but we still do not know

The secrets of the sun

 

The bitter cries of the wind penetrate the empty space in my brain with

echoes

Thrashing against the branches of all those who dared to reach toward the sky

 

Those who sought shelter never felt the pulse

Of a night, restless with unsatisfied desire

And still hungry.

 

Caught in the rain, like we always will be, we wait for the water to fill our shoes

So we can keep walking

We never closed our roots to the waterflow

We need it to grow.

 

When I’m alone and stripped, I peer around to meet the permanent gaze of the faces on my walls. I find myself in a pretty awkward predicament, despite my current state of loneliness, but I can’t help but surrender to the accusation… that they’re really watching

 

 I like that sound:

The sound of moving forward,

the sound of the space bar.

I’m getting somewhere.
Even if it’s nowhere.