I could never bring my anxieties
into a storm.
There’s something about the wind
going through my hair,
the rain
washing down my face,
the lightning
dancing in my eyes.
They make me pay attention
to the here and now.
They invite me
to open up my wings,
to let my spirit soar,
to fly
through the boundless expanse of the horizon;
to be one with the storm,
to feel her winds
as if they were mine,
to touch her rain
as if it were my own body,
to sense her lightning
as if it were my own life force;
to let them go around me, through me
myself in their shape.
I do not know where I end
and where the storm begins.
How can earthly matters
withstand such might?
A storm cannot be shackled
and thus neither can I.
Her spirit is unbounded
and thus so is mine.
No matter what they try,
they can never contain her.
A storm is always free,
and so am I.