Apr 2021
Heavy magic is happening
Fat thick rain finds window screen and splinters in pieces.
I watch them baptize a line of yellow ladybug corpses, a ceremony without a religion
they call it an act of god
It is a miracle that no one prays for,
a worship service no one attends.
Wailing tornado siren calls, a despondent banshee across the field behind my house
Gathering my family around the emergency storm supplies, watching storm trackers trace geometry runes onto weather maps like wizards
Heavy wall clouds that we are swirling around us like cloaks - fearing the cyclone, waiting for the touchdown moment like wheat bowing down to reach under red clay, rooted but unable to stop trembling
A tree that bore my carved name lost it’s arm to the twisting wind, my neighbor’s houses destroyed under the next days sun
But
I am somehow untouched by them,
they flatten the earth around me, but I still stand,
Three have sent me flying down half flooded backroads,
hammering heart
I held every day they let me go, unharmed as a mercy.
They know their children when they see them
I am born of their heavy magic
smell of eerie and purple
shiver of danger before the storm
whip of trains howling past you
that breaking under the cyclone winds,
Have you ever been chased by a thunderstorm? His eyes flash like Lightning, his hands are like Thor’s hammer,
I think that it is all show and no danger,
did you know that heat lightning is just too far away to hear his thunder
you don’t know what danger you are in yet. The only thing you can do when you encounter such power bearing down on you is call on the heavy magic you were born of to baptize you.
To take you.
To escape him I summon the storm, the danger, the rage
Leave destruction
Shattered lamp in my wake
Hands made of wind and ether.
I was born a wall cloud on watch,
wind in my veins, wet hair, electric skin
I pay the price for my generational curse
I look over my shoulder for my damage,
spiraling, breaking,
loss of control.
I want to be a cloud again, before I summoned this birthright.
Fat thick rain finds window screen and splinters in pieces.
I watch them baptize a line of yellow ladybug corpses, a ceremony without a religion
they call it an act of god
It is a miracle that no one prays for,
a worship service no one attends.
Wailing tornado siren calls, a despondent banshee across the field behind my house
Gathering my family around the emergency storm supplies, watching storm trackers trace geometry runes onto weather maps like wizards
Heavy wall clouds that we are swirling around us like cloaks - fearing the cyclone, waiting for the touchdown moment like wheat bowing down to reach under red clay, rooted but unable to stop trembling
A tree that bore my carved name lost it’s arm to the twisting wind, my neighbor’s houses destroyed under the next days sun
But
I am somehow untouched by them,
they flatten the earth around me, but I still stand,
Three have sent me flying down half flooded backroads,
hammering heart
I held every day they let me go, unharmed as a mercy.
They know their children when they see them
I am born of their heavy magic
smell of eerie and purple
shiver of danger before the storm
whip of trains howling past you
that breaking under the cyclone winds,
Have you ever been chased by a thunderstorm? His eyes flash like Lightning, his hands are like Thor’s hammer,
I think that it is all show and no danger,
did you know that heat lightning is just too far away to hear his thunder
you don’t know what danger you are in yet. The only thing you can do when you encounter such power bearing down on you is call on the heavy magic you were born of to baptize you.
To take you.
To escape him I summon the storm, the danger, the rage
Leave destruction
Shattered lamp in my wake
Hands made of wind and ether.
I was born a wall cloud on watch,
wind in my veins, wet hair, electric skin
I pay the price for my generational curse
I look over my shoulder for my damage,
spiraling, breaking,
loss of control.
I want to be a cloud again, before I summoned this birthright.
