Jun 5, 2024
Heavy grey pillows billow through the sky
A distant growl of the tumultuous beast
Echoing through the azure plane
The warning of its coming demise
Beneath the dark clutches of the storm
A stillness in the air, the last breath
Before the breaking of the world
Come at the hands of nature’s fury
Yet I stand serene in that final stillness
Awaiting the first gust, the first tear drop
The earth’s sorrow for the coming rage
To be unleashed in the rumbling thunder
And the fierce lightning strikes
Yet how soft those pillows seem
In this moment, this brief silent watch
That I stand at the onset of every storm
Seeking in that unrelenting fury
The serenity of that same moment
That same single breath of peace
ⓒ Michael Greywood Poetry 2024
