Dream Babies

Thoughts. Poems. Art. Discussion.

Hawk Storm

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