Heart of the storm

Heart of the storm


Look! The trio

of troubadour trees,

are singing

and dancing!

Stately and tall,

they swerve and fall,

from side to side

with jocular pride;

And now they seem

thin fingers in a dream;

Leafy hand stretching out,

feeling the wind.

Searching with unease,

for words lost to time,

and perhaps, a rhyme.

I wonder

at their search,

and my own impatient form;

I wonder if I'll find

what I'm looking for,

in the heart of the storm?