I shall not gently stop this
tapping on tin roof like words
and wishes that should have been said
in lofty halls
wrapped in glee of echo
A thunder in the distance
then lightning and more thunder
making limbs click in fearful talk
but I am not afraid

some crouch behind shuttered doors
clinched eyes against the violence
that nature pride fully bares.
They who are afraid of storms and
lightning night
draw no pleasure from exaltation.

a dynamic theater
this natured husky showing,
shouting, growling,
angered storm
pushing scenery like feathered toys
daring us all to join in battle
of blood pulsing passion
lusty in freedom

but they
wrapped in fear
shun this shouting night which
collected like
a rolled and layered ball
all the anger held in hand
and all the tears shed, unshed
and all the silent words
and all the frustrations of stone-faced people
so that the storm cries with us for us

In the Eye of the Storm...