Storm, 4 am
wind pounds
& shakes,
the house heaves
& settles.
the lighter things
are pushed around
& the lightest
scatter.
soon a stillness,
ghostly,
will pervade
& caution linger.
the most delicate
instruments, alone,
will remain
trembling.
light will self-
consciously emerge
over parts slightly
rearranged.
once again, I
am struck by
what there is
beyond desire:
by what persists
to circulate
within a creature
that needs to fear.
Love this. With my boy, I have tried to create a sense of wonder with storms...the thunder, the lightening, a sense of awe at the power & beauty. I don't want him to be anxious or scared (even though he's been taught to head to the basement on a certain command). It's odd to love something & be afraid of it at the same time. Or maybe not.
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