'STORM'

What hand hath seen fit to draw across the sky a curtain of darkness against the blue
where clouds were floating just a fore in a splendor of review, a constant changing
landscape where imagination's eye did wander with glee most true?
Whose voice has spoken in an authority that would allow such a magnitude
of a natural scene, but yet t'was done in such a pace quick set that the
snuffing of the light was instantly noticed, is it a warning of ill boding coming soon?
Oh horrid rending of my bones as they all at once sound out in a unison of a roar
that is like unto that of the mightiest swing of Thor's hammer, a thundering,
a splitting, as to the very soul cracking of all that holds me up, giving way most sorely.
My eyes are blinded by the words of light that split my heart like a storm filled sky
with shafts of electric power beyond mortal understanding,  I see them jagged
and sharp as they strike, and as my heart tears in deepest pain I ask it why.
No answer is forthcoming to me, save for the howling now of the winds
as they rip through my spirit and make it deaf to all words of healing,
even actions of kindness become dreaded actions of a possible sinning.
Does not any other human or other life around me see this tempest, this storm
that is raging inside of me, tearing at the very core of all that I am, taking away
that I wished for since the first day of realization that I to this life was a woman born?
Huddle I down neath the arms of a great leafy tree, curling up against the trunk strong
hoping to find some constant in this madness inside of me but all I can recognize
is that I am in a storm of inner turmoil, pray I to all that be, lest it tear me till life is gone.
Then a shaft of light breaks through in a streak, a power of illumination that is
divinely sent I am sure to shelter me from this storm, but in it is the spiral of wind
that destroys, a tornado that lifts me from under the tree's limbs, tearing me from where I live.
Ah but what wonder is the mind of man,be it male or female,it is often in the middle
of life's storms we come to truly understand the depths to which we allow love to carry us forth, I surrender, I give up my being, my heart, soul and spirit, now which is a sacrifice little.
And then I find in surrender to the truth of it all, there comes a respite and the rain
ceases in its pelting way to all, the thunder wrecks no more my very bones, the split of the sky causes my eyes more vision, less strain.
It is all clear to me now, life, love, the living of it, and the dying of it
are all but part of who we are, some of us allow ourselves to be just gentle spring rains,
some of us have passions so deep we cannot help but be the very definition of hurricanes.