“Storm”
*The Acorn Overlook at Queen Wilhelmina*
Soft, cool breeze on my skin,
so soothing,
revitalizing;
Traces of rain,
as though the air were damp;
Billowing clouds
out over the mountains,
stretching eastward
to baptize the Earth;
my cleansing salvation,
in my time of need;
Not God -- but life
being breathed into my soul,
into all souls below;
Me and this misty, shaded sky;
Soft colors of dusk --
peach and amethyst and blue,
a dash of striking white;
Fend off another storm;
Faded blues of distant mountains,
almost-rainbow bending down
from over the clouds,
kiss a layer of fog;
brilliant pink from the angled Sun,
dancing atop the storm;
Unaffected, thick clouds continue onward,
blocking the view of the western sky,
hovering just beyond a little town’s limits;
so calm,
serene;
At the same time dangerous,
as though threatening to throw upon us
the full brunt of it’s awesome power,
flood us all out,
drown us,
maybe the Moon will save us,
but the Sun is already
spinning away.