It doesn't matter who reaches the top of the mountain first because eventually we will all be buried beneath it. We're just racing towards death. If you're always trying to reach the top, you never really get there. There will always be another peak to climb, and you can't stay above tree line forever. Also, the hail storm in the valley won't last forever. So you hunker down and ride it out. Finally, if the journey is the destination, you'll always be on top of the mountain.
And just like that, I lost my poetry again. But my nighttime friend was there. The moon who holds my desires and fear. The one who keeps all my tangled thoughts. Reminding me of the wishes I’ve daily written in the night sky. All my stories of pain and love, my sunken dreams and storms. Yet I told the moon of what I know, that my loss does not have to be an end.
Little storm lover sitting on a windowsill while others snore and dream their midnight dreams cold feet a ticket to watch the lightning thunder has electric bones a drum roll giant coming ever nearer she will catch it if they find her well worth the risk to watch the show
She was sewn from a stream of significant disasters, but she has taken charge of the tide. Directing the course of the storm, she became one with the fiercest gyre. The lightning, the moment through the raging sea, the season of her storm is done. The smell of the after-rain, the calmness of the shores mended the remnants. A rainbow of colors and vibrance, the abundance of black clouds is gone. The beautiful sky, a magical release from these painful bonds. Courage and kindness, gratitude and strength, the real treasures are now found.
A storm rages on Trees thrash and break Windows and ears split from the roar of thunder Colossal building shake and bend Rain floods the road Seeps in basements and cars and the earth Waves throw their full weight at the beach Birds and Foxes have long since burrowed Sensing the coming storm
Yet at the same time Not far away A gentle breeze hushly moves the tall grasses in fields Tickles the leaves of blooming trees Weaves its way through the towns and over the waters The people roam the beaches and streets with smiles on their faces and the sun on their skin
Everywhere has its own storm in its own time
And everyone has their own battle at their own time
I shut down, restart, Try to rid myself of an unwelcome guest What is this awakening... thing in me It terrifies me It rises, a dragon, a phoenix It roars and weeps and hisses It trembles and whispers and cowers It bubbles and tickles and shines It stings and aches and burns It coils, constricts It is claustrophobic and freeing It is drowning in air It is contradictions A storm in my chest Does everyone have this–– This storm in your chest?
–––An Android Awakening: a Memoir in Verse
'An Android Awakening: a Memoir in Verse' isn't a real book, just one of my fabrications :)
Written for day 2 of @angelealowes January writing prompts: storm in your chest