The smallest silent storm

The tempest awakens the senses
Panic arrising and subsiding
origination from somewhere deep
growing exponentially
back and forth
back and forth
walking through a past it was not born unto
and taking it on as a relief
and as a burdon





each turn presents blessings
and horrifying pictures of distruction
hot sensations of the pain
but no way to see
and no want or need to do so



back and forth
back and forth
the only words to find have already
been written and perfected
noone to hear them
take them in
eat them whole like cherries
but the one who walks alone





fear of falling over the edge tempts
thoughts of jumping instead
watching the back and forth
back and forth
behind the eyes
sickness from the pit of the stomach
but it stands awe struck by the
convergence of day and night
of love and swirling pink and blue and black sky
falling and being lifted up at the exact same moment





merging and flowing and reversing
back and forth
back and forth





twice as many
half as much
the same to the eye
volume and condition
differ
from head to heart and back again





A life lived so perfect
the peach tears from the branch
reaching for the ground
so full so wet
but still back and forth
back and forth





Everything it holds from the future
everything it is from the past
Beauty held in the rain drops
splashes on the face makes it feel alive
pushes it back and restarts it
brewing until nothing happens again