Riddle
Midnight icy demons howl
unleashed, a predator enslaved to prowl,
tearing through the black, black sky
blowing fiercely within the eye.
Across the field, the drifts I glimpse
as the white oak shudder in attempt,
the window pane begins to breathe
the screen transformed as if a sieve.
My hand moves up to clasp my throat
filled bittersweet as the storm provokes,
a pine tree snaps, a split jackknife
in rearranged environment so like my life.
Imagination rages in the prism of experience
heralded above,the night spews indifference,
I am as of stone, weighed to the spot
struggling to remember what I have forgot.
Entangled within is the message unknown
puzzling my soul, and then it is gone,
forever to be buried in ice laden snow,
and once begins thaw..I might never know.
So vivid, does a storm rage in you?
LOL. Well, maybe. I think a storm rages in most. According to the day, the mood, and what little thing that sets me off (in whatever direction). Renee, do you have a site I could visit? I would like to know if a storm might rage in you. Thanks for your comment!
I believe that thoughts begin to stir in the cold, even if the sights that surround us are frozen. I would love some time to sit and talk with you…converstions would be curative to the unfaced stranger that knocks on my door from time to time.
So chilly. I got the shivers. Excellant!