The Nature of Chaos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are not aware of the size of the storm,

Nature takes cover, birdsong ends,

Its all so quiet, all so still ,

You sleep, trancelike gentle waves creep in.

 

You are not prepared for the force of the storm

All senses heightened for the blow,

Blood rising through roots and through veins ,

Heart of soul expanding , contracting.

 

You are not here to stop the wrath of the storm,

Surrender to the source of flow,

Be of earth, fire, water and air,

Be of all things , of no thing , of dust.

 

You are here to witness the eye of the storm,

Dismembered , remembered you sing,

The relative velocity,

In the eye of who began it all.

 

 

09:06 :2020 White Raven a shamanic journey into  middle world unrest.

 Poetry is from the heart , a form of art , an expression born of an emotion in time. If you care to share then from my heart to your heart please do and always credit the artist.