Before my Eyes

 

the image came to life:

 

blue lava wails and flares its stifled tongue,

splenetic, sharp and surly-

 

licking waves which,

cresting ever higher,

catch upon the wind and rain-

 

crashing down upon

the sailors and the ships

and I can almost feel it,

the ocean’s spray upon my cheeks-

 

the tension rising

with the wave,

smothering my breath and

shrouding me in restless stillness

in the face of such a wave-

 

drowning in my thoughts

and the seaspray on my cheeks,

I see into the stormy eye

and surrender to its presence-

 

for this great wave, as all, will pass,

will smooth to rolling surf and

softly swelling froth-

 

and so can sullen eyes

be brightened-

 

so can chaos again subside to peace.