A FLORIDA STORMSTORMSTORM

With eyes closed, I feel the breeze that seldom travels far from shore. The waves which dance, wind in the trees–they give a hint of something more: Something lost, until it’s found— that is loud but makes no sound. Something strong and almost nigh, something etched onto the sky.

All who live have known this touch of nature’s breath and as such they feel her pause without fear, even though her storm is near.

May she paint the clouds with ink, fill our lungs with damp and wink, for we know the beauty of the calm before the storm above and the clouds, longing to release the rain that gives the world its peace.

With opened eyes, I feel the breeze, that pulls me close and reveals to me the beauty of a storm’s dark tease. O’ Florida, how I love thee.