How she brews and
where she blows
is the answer we want,
but no one knows.
Wind and rain,
fire and ice,
a path of destruction
through us all does slice.
Dark brooding yin
crashes yang’s violent light;
all in their path
succumbing to fright.
Our structures and bodies,
are hurled through the air,
shredded like paper.
Does anyone care?
Captured together,
a serendipitous chance,
rainbow and funnel
paired for a dance.
One rip-roaring,
hell-bent on death;
the other still promising
love’s holy breath.
Let metaphor carry you
past picture’s contrast
to relationship’s reality
so you may hold fast
to the ways your life
can be healed or broken
by the words you choose,
either withheld or spoken.
Hope’s seed is scattered
to places unknown.
Come hell or high water,
we’ll hang-on ‘til she’s grown.
© 2015 Todd Jenkins
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