The Heart of the Storm

The-Heart-Of-The-Storm-Jenny-TaskerK. Barratt

 

Sometimes I feel in a whirlwind of voices,

Those in my head, those outside of it,

Each pulling every possible way and I’m torn

And ripped, not knowing which to follow,

Listen to, believe, the world seems like a

Blizzard and I’m blinded by the snow of

Thoughts, drowning in words and feelings:

Love and loath, pity and hate and it seems

Like I cannot escape, I run, looking for harmony,

For silence, for a bit of me, unsoiled, untouched

By the fears and doubts, I feel so stupid, I

Can’t see left from right, and I scream trying

To break the cloud of noise with my shrieks,

Otherwise I won’t be able to make it,

I shall not find the way to the peace.

And everything breaks, like a looking glass,

And I find the path.

All the voices muted. All the notions stilled.

The silence is balmy and soft and sweet,

Demanding nothing, just for me to be.

And I know it won’t last but for now I float:

Carefree, gently, like a cherry blossom,

Inside the unmoving heart of the storm.

 

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