The Storm (excerpt from "..Of Fame and Famine")

The Storm

Outside, the rain and thunder provide percussion for my melancholy melody….

An orchestral festival of self blame, paranoia and depression-

I’m guessin’ that the downpour will eventually lesson

But my confession

Is that I believe the dark clouds are a blessing.

I used to find the lightning frightening.

I used to run under my mother’s covers when it thundered.

My youthful innocence made me afraid of the storm,

Afraid of being drenched at Mother Nature’s expense…

Hence…

Every time storm clouds gathered,

I’d rather run and hide inside than look the Hurricane in its eye.

But I’m a grown man now,

I can’t run to Mom-

And the sky around my life is anything but calm..

But these days instead of running, I choose a different route-

I face the storm head on- get soaked, dry off, and come right back out.

Lightning never strikes the same place twice, yet I keep moving

I don’t even block my ears when I hear the thunder BOOOOMING.

After 30 some odd years and 300 some odd days

I’ve finally found a way to survive the storm – unscaved

So, I’m proud of myself—I’m no longer running

I just wish I was smart enough to see the storms coming…

Alberta Clipper from the North,

High Pressure from the East,

Before I die and ‘rest in peace’

My only goal is to rest. In peace..