Eye of the Storm
Does it come from within, or without?
Susurrative noises rustle in the trees, and I breathe in the restlessness of the air.
Interruption, intrusion, converts to stillness and settling as the cool breeze pauses.
Lightning flash and thunder roar past, but rumbles fade in the following grayscale.
Excommunication from nature costs dearly, reestablishment of the connection needs centeredness.
Negativity breeds emotional tinnitus; we are afraid of the quiet that comes with a calm soul.
Cacophony! Resistance! Speak to the storm within, soothe, reassure, encourage the change.
Encumbrances will rage and roar, meet them with the tranquility after the tempest.
About the Creator
Meredith Harmon
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
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