Poem: Hurricane

Hurricane

In silent Eye
She pauses, empty
of expectation, void
of regret
In this moment
All thoughts suspended
In a vacuum, surrounded
By the roar of wind
And rain

In this moment
A Voice, not hers
Comes gently like a
Mother's lullaby, then
Steady, slow, deep
An ocean filled with
Treasure, welled up
On massive surf, and
Tossed upon the beach
Glittering before her:

The Voice...

It Calls her name,
It Calls her heart,
It Calls her soul...

In silence full
Of new anticipation
Eye moves on, and
She stands, arms
Thrown wide, aware
That she has become
An Eye within herself

She moves within
The storm, steady,
Driven, following the
Path the Voice revealed
Living committed
To turn the Perfect Storm
From destruction to
Construction

Then, falling on her knees
She screams, "Who am I, " 
Against the Wind,
"Who Am I to lead Your people
From their desperation?"

The Wind whirls
Around her, fills
Her lungs, kissing her
Cheeks, and she,
Left behind,
Understands

(c) 31 October 2012