The Passing Clouds
*
Leaves fall, the sky darkens, branches entwine,
appearing so cold, so lonely from outside.
Answers came so easily yet meaning little in hindsight.
Clouds race, lightning flashes, thunder rolls, skies pout.
A house high upon a bluff. What fortune!
Warm light glows through windows made of glass.
Waves pounding, wind roars, mind trembles to find port.
*
If only the turmoil would end like a closing door.
Searching for calm, no break in the storm, a tempest unsurpassed.
The wind pushes forward, leading,
blowing, billowing, guiding so forcefully.
A warm, protective fire glows so sumptuously.
*
The sky clears, the wind stops, soft clouds float, touching blue.
A calming peace, one word said, and I become unglued.
Living Northwest Style 