STANDING IN THE STORM

Apocalyptic movies reveal:

how we thrill to imagine
some mad cataclysmic event 
that sends the planet's populace running
willy-nilly--arms flailing--
through streets rocking wildly
from the rush of that panic.

But of course
those movies also reveal
our wish to be 
the hero and heroine
who face the burl of fire and storm
and refuse to waver.

At story’s end 
having saved the metropolis--
the nation--the world
we stand with them
in the ashes of the aftermath
and lift our eyes to the hope
of a golden dawn.

However
that big dream only lasts two hours
and when we exit
the mundane life on the street
seems so uninspiring in contrast.

But why should it?--
every day
we feel the heat increasing--
I see people fleeing
a monstrous inferno--
every day
those fiery tentacles destroy
homes, cities, farms, forests, oceans.

We have birthed the apocalypse!

Occasionally I’ll feel out of breath
and realize I’ve been running. 
Then standing amid the fire and ash
I’ll know again how weak I really feel.

At such times, I begin to fear 
my anxiety will soon overwhelm me.

And so, in desperation, I’ll force myself
to find the strength to remain still—
to deal with the firestorm
instead of giving oxygen to those flames
with the wind of my retreat.  

Sometimes then the sun will shine
through those dark shifting clouds
and again I’ll see
how we’ve given ourselves 
an opportunity to be 
the better version of who we are.
The hero and the heroine.

Standing in the Storm

I claim to be a novelist, poet, essayist, cartoonist, graphic artist, peace monger--and I'm trying to be a world citizen. As for my backstory...let's just say I've lived and worked all over the United States.  I'm self-taught, for the most part, which is like stumbling around blindfolded while looking for the right door.  It's an on-going process. Lacking any true musical ability, I try to make music with language, while also making meaning.  

Standing in the Storm

mythsteps