The Stream

There is a place inside of me

Deep inside of me

Where a rocky steam flows

It catches and tumbles on the rocks

But it moves with a rhythm

Familiar as a heartbeat

Regular as a clock

It flows in a circular path

Downhill, then inexplicably

Back up again

Effortlessly

Until now

Now the stream has swollen

It has overspilled its banks

The rocks are submerged

Beneath a great tide

It's pulling at the cliffs

Mowing down trees

Help me

I'm drowning

The Wind

The wind is wild here

An untamed stallion

It will slam into you

Trample you down

All the while

Squealing and shrieking

Its equine call

It kicks up dust, leaves

And even tiny rocks

It scares great flocks

Of birds into the sky

Where they ebb and flow

Like schools of airborne fish

They dip and almost

Hit the ground

The stallion wind

Whips them with

Its flying tail

And they’re cast up

And flung until

They scatter

Their screeches

Echoing back

The voice

Of the wind

So Cold

I am so cold

I can hardly feel it

Anymore

What was a fire

Is now nothing

And I sit in this

Lonely place

Cold place

Silent place

Wondering

If I will die here

Alone and

Uncounted

Watching

Waiting