Weather of the GodsThe sound of rain on the roof was both as soft as owl wings and as defining as someones dieing scream. The rivets the water made in the soft dirt were a pattern of twists and turns, a topographical map to the heavens. The winds that moved the ever-darkening clouds were solid and fluid, dancing a tempo no man could follow.The piano in the corner, resting on a pedestal of wood, played a melody of highs and lows. The mood made to calm, comfort and surround, as if a warm blanket. The keys of ivory crested and fell in an ode to the weather of the Gods.
You Know ItWeeeee!RC get down. His heart wasnt in it, she was just too happy.Come on, Jacob. Its fun! She giggled.He sighed. Come on, RC. We have to meet Lynn and Charlie in ten minutes and itll take us that long to get to their place from here. Here, was a little park that RC had discovered all on her own. Her park, she called it.Oh, okay. She jumped down from the swings and ran to his side. When she reached him she clamped on to his arm. Glomp.He smiled down at her. Youre crazy.She looked up at him and smiled back, You know it.
They PassThe trees are calm.Unmoving.The wind is silent.Calm.A storm is coming.They will come fromboth sides,Trapping the quite.Forcing it.I can hear it coming.6 feet ahead is whereone will pass me,It pays me no heed.Just another rock.The end is coming.They pass.The quite and calmscared away,The wind screams.Trees bow.I'm waiting for calm.Listen it's coming.It's here.
Come the Hence, RoyceI listened and I heardthe crying of theirhearts.The breaking.The wind screamedthrough the treeskicking up the dirt.Soon you'll feel it too.A woodpecker calledout.A sparrow or a finch.And all I could think wasCome the Hence, Royce.Come on back.It started out with few.Only those you knew.But our gathering, tears,and presence drew othersout.A student and a wench.And all I could think wasCome the Hence, Royce.Come on back.I hardly looked up,your hand on my neck.I can draw you theground.My feet.A child, not five, wasgiggling indoors.Your laughter was hers.A message and a speech.And all I could think wasCom the Hence, Royce.Come on back.I watched the presentationyour ashesSaw your flag un- and re-folded.You made them cry that day.Your left hand holding onthen your rightletting go now.A sadness and a choice,And all I could think wasCome the hence, Royce.Come one Back.
Mother Nature at Her BestSometimes the wind scares me. The howl of the gust against a cracked window pain and through a naked trees limbs. The power behind the unseen, the twist and turns, ups and downs, enough to bring the house down. The colorless and tasteless strength that whips through valleys, over mountains, around hills, and amongst streams.Sometimes, when the earth sighs, groans, and flexes, the ground opens. A great wide gap big enough to swallow you whole, or maybe the tiniest of cracks that'll trip you so you'll fall. The shakes and twists, rolls and sways, can through off the balance, bring you to your knees.But the scariest of all is the stillness. The lack of all the sighs, howls, groans, twists, turns, ups and downs. The total and content-ness of the Earth and its existence. The lack of the destruction and humbling, and when the simplicity of life becomes overpowering.