No
warning, or portent,
only
a slight movement of air
at
first, birthing wind
strengthening
forcing
small droplets of vapor
together,
into clouds
darkening,
edged in gray
then
blue-black, a herald
of
destructive desire
clouds
baptizing softly
then
hard, tiny stilettos stinging
skin,
tearing at pores
as
the fury wraps around me,
offering
not destruction
not
violence or death
but
love, ultimately.
I’ve
been reading The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning, and his chapter
entitled “Fury” put me in mind of the images above. More on that tomorrow.
This
poem is submitted to Open Link Night at dVersePoets.
Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
9 comments:
Like the image of "hard, tiny stilettos stinging /skin".
clouds baptizing softly then hard...ha...i like that....i rather like to stand in the storm and feel its power....
You make me want to dance in the rain to the sound of thunder...fantastic description and word play here...and love the photo you've selected...awesome visit!
It's amazing how so many of our images of love are so soft - but passion is not soft at all; it just knows when to be gentle.
I do like the way you wrap this up with love!
Mine’s HERE
"the fury wraps around me,
offering not destruction
not violence or death
but love, ultimately." just beautiful.
And here I thought you were cheating for tomorrow :) This is a beautiful poem. You definately have a gift
Yes, ultimately... love. Even in the midst of the storm. Last night we had thunder and lightning! Such a strange turn of weather. = )
Love can almost be violent in it's expression (I am no talking not sex here). The effects perhaps grab our full attention. I remember when my counselor in fifth grade (I was having a tough year...just ask my teacher, poor thing)came to my house dressed as Santa.When I figured out who he was I was overtaken with emotion and melted. A simple act of love which shot like lightning. That was 40 years ago!
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