there is a chilling wind, lifting
the skirt of God, glimpsing
the forbidden, uninvited
fury of a storm.
the jaded angels, grim
relieve themselves, thin
lines marking territory, here
is the line you shall not cross.
mirthless dance of trees, swaying
battered by rain, falling
onto leaves, leaking
as a faucet leaks, unwelcome
dripping down, wasted
running down, ragged
you are not welcome here.
the clouds brows narrow, piercing
light onto the face of sky, pointing
the way to stillness, grounding
the eye of the storm, watching
heaven see me, tumbling
as the thunder continues, rumbling
inside my chest, a grumbling
fury of a storm.
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