The Storm Outside

Attempting to find sleep in the early morning hours as the storm rages outside.
Watching the performers in my life struggle to find their perfect part.
Learning their lines but seemingly always missing their cue,
berating themselves yet not understanding my tranquillity as I watch,
thinking they have upset the balance, when in fact the play is perfect.

Rain lashes itself against the windows, rivulets running down the pains.
Tears of life falling yet strangely, I am unmoved by their flow.
I sit composedly in the middle of the floor, absolving all around me,
Calm in the middle of the storm on this early morning vigil,
attempting to make sense of the imposed wreckage outside.

The life I now lead is one of my choosing, I choose not to incriminate.
I am not looking for the storm to subside, it will exhaust itself
and I will remain seated on the floor in self absorbed satisfaction,
in the knowledge that the performers will learn to live with imperfection
as nature performs her imperfect dance outside the window.

The storm rages on as rain and wind lash the walls outside.
Calmness within the walls reflect how I see the storm,
it will blow over as all storms must, leaving behind broken branches,
but not a broken heart, not this one at least.
All the performers are important to me, they could never fail me.

There is no competition, each has won their own award,
a place in my heart that will remain forever theirs.
So let the storm subside. Let it pass us by.
Windswept and dishevelled, we can brush ourselves down and start anew.
We must all remain in the play as surely as the wind is part of the storm.

©2012 Trevor Litchfield

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2 Comments

  1. This is beautiful…so beautiful!

  2. Beautiful indeed!

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