"It's a moment before.
 
The stillness is of a zen monk,
the heaviness of a misdemeanor unconfessed,
the puddle is a pool with the sky in shame,
the renegade vine mumbling Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité."
 

A storm as as much an anticipation as it is an occurrence. And as in all things which we expect, which we wait for, there is endless trepidation, an asymmetric thudding, an irrational prescience, and an almost-joyous fear. We know it will change things, we know it will break the breakable and bend the bendable - we find hiding places, corners away from the airstream, we want lesser impact, we seek status quo.
 
And then we open the windows, and ourselves, to the storm.
 
In the schemata of willful resurrection, there is no sweeter joy than to find oneself in smithereens, to know we will find ourselves broken into pieces and nothing, nothing will put us back together in the same way. And in that broken down situation lies the promise of regeneration. Whilst we force ourselves into survival mode, if we are alive to storms, we will seek its destructive power. We will know that the storm will pass, we will know that we will survive, we know it will leave us cleansed, we know it will leave us changed.
 
So, I open my window to storms. I open myself up, to find a new me.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on storms, summers and other life-affirmations -
Bringing The Storm Home
A Summery Love Story (in the middle of winter)
Those Days of a Lost Summer

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on [email protected]

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The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Landing On The Spanish Lands by MusicLFiles
Link: https://filmmusic.io/song/6223-landing-on-the-spanish-lands
License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

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