eye of the hurricane

we know which way to go.

the way the ppl see us, they see

the flow of us like a storm

we are the eye, as they

are swept thru the

turbulent tides and

gushing winds.

one by one, they are

swept into the eye.

guided by us, we see

the path because we

are the eye of the

hurricane.

you are a beautiful day

i could see you there. fair skies and the sun shines high above knowing that you would say this is a beautiful day. hold your hands together as we pray for the soft clay beneath our feet as it guides us along the way to new grounds. not where things are grown, or paved but anew way to traverse these worlds and truly realize that time on the clock doesn’t exist but the time at the table spent together does. in different skies and in different weather we could have watched as times whither away between us. the rain doesn’t fall like it used to but in the end the sun is shining brighter and hotter and that’s more than a metaphor; you are what moves the skies around as the people traverse along the plains not knowing the uncharted skies you had to go through so the people can say “what a beautiful day it is”

they could sea it all

how could we know that we could become like the tides? crashing back in forth into one another. changing the nature around us. changing the landscapes of each other’s boundaries and letting the moon move us. we know our bounds but we come back steady and headstrung into the rocks because over time we know they will smooth out in the end and skip like pebbles along our shores by star crossed lovers that were born for the storms because the rain reminds them of the tides they would become some day