A Tempest In Her Soul
By Geoffrey Zimmerman
The ground beneath her feet
Was merely a point of reference
Up and down mattered little
From years of tasting the hurricane
She had irrevocably opened her doors
To invite it in
Far and near,
Then and now ablur
Had he left with purpose to throw her awry/?
Or
Had he been swept up to be carried away?
To leave her – as detritus – as rubble
My new day was a cup
Spilt
Overflowing
Broken
Teetering
Barely an aim to my archer’s quiver
And my cup meant nought when her tornado of life
Pulled my head
I was swept in
The stream will not flow up with no reason
And the bird shall not fly inverted
I rang the alarm
Come forth
She is off – like a top
Let’s set her right
The tempest does feed on itself
On those within – and those near
I came in
And then unleashed the stables
To assist
To soften
To slow
The spin
And she looked – through blurry eyes
At my heart
My arms
And she saw sabers
Saw chains
And they neared
For I had rung the bell
To come save her
To stop the tempest
And I left
She alone
She begone
She a-spinning
To meet the men
To rake the path
And they did show
And they did drill
But as I fretted
My flag a-ready
To point the way
She rose up
And reentered the tempest
And it pounded her
And threw her down
To the stone
And her head
Her eyes
Her voice
Her ears
Did bounce
Like a coconut against a sharp rock
And my heart did still
And my eyes did flare
And my legs did rush
And my hand was to her shoulder
And they came
They all did come
As if a war
Did she unleash
And they said nought
But laid a path for me
And said to me go
We have her now
Her tempest was mine
And still is.