Looking back after the storm has passed
there’s amazement in seeing how quickly the world became dark,
how dense the clouds, how vast,
the beauty within the day gone from my hands
before I could tighten my grasp.
Running helter-skelter seeking safe harbor,
but there were no sheltering bays to stand firm beneath my feet,
not when my mind was one step before,
waiting with cold words to charge the clouds
and intensify the storm.
Empty echoes on the road I splashed down,
seeking worth in this stark place I dwell between worlds,
this bitter place bidding me to drown,
this isolated place where I seek escape,
but there’s no escaping what’s in myself.
Yes, my personal lightening crash came again,
crushing me to my knees on a muddy road where I’m alone,
and as I look through the waves of rain
and struggle to regain my feet
I wonder how long before no self remains.
In the street I recover, and as always, I rise,
knowing not how many chances remain in my future unwritten,
no answers to that question, I surmise,
but since I’ve tasks yet to perform
the end must wait until I decide it’s time.
©August 2014, Christina Anne Hawthorne