(I wrote this during the crazy tornado season after hearing that my Aunt and Uncle’s house was demolished and leveled; I suppose this was my way at the time to release the anxiety. A lot of it doesn’t make sense. I had forgotten about it until today……)

Experiencing one’s self with nature and hearing her story like being told through a Nanny reading a bedtime story. Which is so beautiful, so peculiarly softly spoken among the vibrant intensity of the all her color, and all her broad life.

 

She feels the metamorphose of her temperament

The lazy breeze becomes bored, modulates into a devoted brat and aggravates intentionally.

 

Eyes to the sky, her satellites automatically tune in.

The monstrous anxiety rolls in on a nightmares best entrance.

 

The clouds seem to mock the pace of her heartbeat, steadily continuing to accelerate.

 

 

She welcomes Mother Nature in like an old friend but starts preparing for the uncertainty.

Eyes to the sky, the religion she grew to know, tired of

suckling on this terror she just can’t seem to detach.

Yet this terror had been sewn into her being inadvertently; sewn into the pockets of her raincoat she has kept for protection.

 

Troubled fingers hide in cozy caves next to her hips as they hastily scratch at the threads. And as one fiber untangles, the steam from her frustrated fingers activates another interlaced complication.

 

Both feet are cemented into instruction

not budging, not a movement uncounted.

The catalogue of directions could be interpreted in

any language if need be.

 

Mother Nature tests the strength of her cement and grows louder and brighter, cracking her seams.

Threats of violence are catapulted across the expansive clouds; she wants to be heard and the attention of all.

 

She changes the color of the sky and of the atmosphere maybe just to show off like a kind jab on the playground.

 

She awakens the over sensitive clouds, ruffles and shakes their feathers, injects them with angered jet fuel and whispers her plan. Triggering immense arguments and jealous emotion, greed and selfishness. Now ready to activate their task, each one build as high as they can while trying to out do one another. The electricity builds and what was that like a ride of bumper cars has now developed into a violent tangled mess of unstableness with electric, explosive, deviant races reaching for base.

She feels impregnated and distracted with this growing domination, while keeping count of each well known step of hers helplessly regenerating the negative power with in herself.

As best as she knows how, she keeps track of her battle plan and follows her every move. The electric responsiveness collides with her quivering reason. The cozy caves turn into a lawless labyrinth and the fiber mesh doubles allowing no breathing room.

 

The rain pours down desperately trying to get away from the turbulence within which gives the wind a partner for play.