the sky will not shake its grey clouds

seems a terrible reckoning

standing in the yard

watching the arc gradually move

knowing the danger exists

yet, not understanding how to move.

inside the hours of a day,

a storm can pass through with a wreckage

profound to our eyes.

much like that fury, relentless

in its swath across the valley

so might an anxious moment in my mind

strike fear in my heart with every turn.

for it is the simple truth of anxiety

like waiting out the pounding hail

that state of mind takes over

holds me like a strong wind against

a silent wall.

how might I break through the marble stone

of this imaginary space that steps in front of my

happiness, at every turn, little might the mind

do when lost in the flurry of the eye,

storm waters pour from reservoirs

while the desire to step forward becomes more muddied

with every notion of grasping the unknown.

We never quite understand the immense power

of Nature’s wrath on a pristine moment of clarity.