New Storm 1997
I love the storm that threatens my life. It approaches from behind, runs along side, moves ahead, wraps around. Gray arms of cloud, memory and future.
Occasional rain, loosens deadly oil, wheels skid, falling, in my mind. Occasional rain, forerunners, collision, we fall, I drive on.
Gray sky with torn edges, without dimension, concealing thunderheads, flashes of light within, then thunder, they crawl onward, embrace, then consume, bright orange remnant of sun.
Rolling waves, thunder against rocks on the beach, peaceful its power, indifferent to destruction, drive towards destiny, the storm, the sea, indifferent. I have come too far to quit. let it be now, in the passion, in the rage, in the beauty, on the edge of the storm.
I head for home, as it would seem prudent to do, to create words in the infinite space of the blank page. Thunder grows louder by my window, my perch,, in the treetops, the peak of the house, the bridge of the ship. Orange city sky, black trees in motion, silhouettes, the sun long gone. Eerie colors strobe, electric daylight for an instant, blue green trees appear irregular.
Beneath the rage of light and energy, beneath the passion and the fury, the cars drive on indifferent, their occupants protected. The lightning does not penetrate the metal shield of the car, the occupants know no danger, feel not fragile, they know only reduced visibility, they know only delays, they are behind schedule, the storm reduces efficiency, was not properly forecast, there is slow going on the roads tonight, they live apart from the beauty that is the storm, they return home, uninspired, silently scared, ostensibly tough, die in the shower, in electric blue dispassion, fragile thing, the lightning strikes, indifferent.
The storm has driven us apart; I see her face in the lit clouds.
There is no difference between the lightning, the storm, the tearing within. For the rain drops are tears, and the ground is very wet. For metaphor and reality share a common space, with the storm, which rumbles past, which leaves, as soft rain, emptiness.