Orchestral Storm

It’s a cloudy morning 

A storm rages

I feel the cold wind caress my skin

A kiss

A reminder of life

The song rises and falls 

It never stops or stalls 

Just a rushing melody 

Of entropic expression 

I watch a leaf dance on the stone floor 

The stone that bites at my skin

Does an acorn consume earth or Earth the acorn? 

Dichotomies of opposites and identicals 

They don’t belong in this instrumental 

Because the rush is rising 

And through the clouds the sun is shining 

It’s early spring 

Pretty soon, I’ll hear hatchlings sing

They’ll enter the chorus of the chaos within 

Transience doesn’t end or begin

The mathematical organisation of time 

Arbitrary, phantasmic constructions of the mind of a culture 

That bleeds it’s alienation

I haven’t got the patience 

But rushing melody of the storm 

Boundless and lacking form

I heard it before the dawn 

It’s wild anarchy

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