Storm Watch

Timbres in thunderous tendrils

thread the tranquility

they rip at the veil of security

with their tones in stress,

while inside holding

onto the frayed fabric in calm

when time’s wayward wisps in weathering angst

comes as ominous and gray foreboding threats.

They seen with eyes so accustom

to the perils of life’s storm watch.

 

Peaces is the refuge within the mind,

a shelter of memories and strength

that doesn’t hide from the rumbling booms,

but accepts their inclement cymbals

as a serenade in stamina

because you never can avoid the tempest times,

can’t find a haven where rain doesn’t fall.

 

It is the seasoned spirit of aged glances

who can view the brewing mantle in dread,

which often sweeps over a day

with the tangled teeming touches in dismay

and stand calmly with confidence

completely aware there are rainbows to come,

another destined moment in reprieve

soon to replace the stains in trials.

 

Still within the heart shudders

amid each new wave in test,

for being human means to never stop feeling.

 

Just ever resilient in the assurance of maturity

over being able to visualize clear skies

no matter the temporal setting in the clouds.