The ‘I’ of the Storm

I move
Through any season;
pleasant summer time,
silver moonlit night,
cold stormy winter sigh.

I move into the storm,
frost biting through my skin,
I move as if I am the storm.

The wind sweeps the snow beneath my feet,
clearing the path ahead of me
making way
As if I am the way.
I am the wind, the storm, the snow.

As if I am the force of nature.
Your indispensable I.

Mother nature,
where is this road taking me now?
Where must I go?
What must I shed, what else is there to learn, to experience, to give, to know?

My joy is your joy.
My rage, my tears, my fire,
my strength… it all comes through you.

I know.
I do as you will.

I move, I walk, I run, I sing, I dance, I breath, I fight, I love, I swim, I cry, I fly through you.
As you do through me.

Until you let me go.
So ‘I’ can go back home.

🕸