the eyes of the storm

The arms of the storm rip and tear—first at the lapel of your jacket, next knocking away your hat, finally having a go at your roof, the tree, stress-testing the limits of the world.

The legs of the storm sink deep into the earth, bringing frost, rain, mud, pulling out the rug of grass from underneath your feet.

The hands of the storm hurl great stones, dump buckets of water, point and cheer on Zeus as he keeps hucking bolts any and every direction.

The eyes of the storm—well, the eyes of the storm are blue. Kind, loving, calm. Weeping gentle droplets of rain, saying there now, this will all be over soon, singing a soft lullaby of gentle breezes, almost forgotten in the violence…

Thank you. Let’s have a great day.