The Coming Storm
by Christopher J Patton
Hush.
It’s too quiet now.
Feel it? The future fury?
Absent. A ghostly rumble.
Hush. Hush, hush!
Stillness still, yet…
There,
A puff stirring of air strangely different,
Coolly charged with ionic streams released –
Hush, hear it?
Did you? Did I?
Are you coming or not, false fury?
A rumble distantly distinct,
A rumble echo not.
Who’ll believe me?
Most see it not,
But, still I cry, “Hush, hush, and, obey – before you feel a drop!”
So quietly, softly they fall on favored cheek fat from not listening, now.
A flash. Was it?
Or did I blink too hard from not seeing?
Listen loudly,
Distant drums divine dance ominous
Death, destruction, disease and danger:
Demons dancing delight in delusion, deigning to deceive the decided not.
Hush.
Be still and live to listen.
Inerrant warning builds in backgrounds
Distinctly felt by bumbling folks.
Feel the air; hear the faint breeze.
See the unseen flash of lightning
While yet it’s still day,
Bright and calm –
Around the ever-feasting pool party so distractingly drunk and debauched,
Yet carefully planned by false weathermen forecasting fair – yesterday, today and tomorrow…
(12/24/2002)
