The storm swept through like a hawk on patrol
It rattled my windows
It rattled my soul
And I certainly don’t want to be here no mo’
Where?
Oh I don’t know, in this time, in this place
I don’t prefer the strife
The strife of life
Like a storm
Yay though I walk through the paved side streets
That lead to more streets
Car after car holding one person each
Busying themselves to and fro like ants on parade
Always someplace to go
Always following someone’s lead, leading nowhere
There’s no fleece left to shear
All is bald
Not a sound follicle left
And yet they inspect for one more strand
Everywhere
Everyone
Everything
And really folks! There’s nothing left! Nothing!
Everyone’s forgotten what the hell they’re fighting for, they’re just fighting, trusting blind leaders in both directions, running from one sensational headline to the next
Where have thou put their faith?
No one can even agree about God anymore, but then again, they never did.
“You better remember where you come from, you better remember who you are!”
Well, who is that exactly? Who are we? Where did we come from? Whatever this is it has got to be a far departure from IT! God. Whatever IT is!
Oh yes, the storm, I digress, much less disturbing at this point.
Billowy charcoals and greys rolling, rolling in oceanic splendor across a valiant sky that can hold the anger of such a thing grasping it while it fits and violently pierces the ground, taking an innocent tree in its wake.
No thing the same.
Nothing’s the same
And even though I hate its violence, I much prefer the rain.
Featured art: Hawk Storm Universe, watercolor, acrylic, & digital by: Copyright © 2018 Camille Elizabeth – 22 spheres ephemera