The Rising Winds

See the storms

feel the rising wind

carrying hurts

young and old

The trees; they sway

branches crack

Dead leaves crackle

Lashing down

the rain

it stings it burns

there is beauty

to be found

in the chaos of this sound

Rising wind

Thrusting paths

through tired streets

bursting in to

lazy windows

shadows loom low and

long

shadows of “truths” that

don’t belong

Grey, macabre

clouds fill sky and

horizon

No more sun no more

say

the storm has its way

Bringing to the fore

dreams of other days

Of times without plague

of grey filling to tipping

point eye’s so called

eternity

Limiting what was

and what could be

seen to be seen

New the lost dawn or

dusk

Lost in lack of light

to storms above, eternity’s

plague

Call the boats home

For all left alone

will be lost

Ferocious the storm

Calling them home

Step inside to warm candle light

holding hands in prayer

as we wait for bombs to

fall

for tumult and turmoil

to fail the faces of the

weary, weak and old

Watch the storm

Daughters, sons drop

the offerings you bear,

run to refuge, run

home for this storm

can never be appeased

hate is its menu and

greed its desire

Stay low

Hush

Cover tired, fearful eyes

This storm bears lies

Lies that destroy the world.

Torn the future

Ripped apart by fire

and rain

Wind and resentment

The lighthouse beacon

lost to ash and cloud

Call to home

In this storm

Call to home

feel the rising wind

hide within

This storm has no end.