The Storm's Gaze

Majestic waves of purple rain

beat against my window pane

Icy blue snowflakes now follow south

as we collect them in our mouths

acting like children one may say

yet I believe this is sheer joy

to play outside within the storm's gaze

with my little boy

placing angels on the graves

of those that came before us

now resting in our sideyard

calling us forth to play among the stones

marking the site where those old bodies

now rest as we play amongst you

hands to chest

to protect us from the cold

that has blown down from the northpole.

 

Soon we will go inside

rest against the hearth

the warmth of the fire

lighting our song

of remembrances of our day

played among the storm's gaze-

where we tread with no fear

but abandonment

among the rain, snow, sleet

and stone where our old family now nap

afraid not are we to play among the rocks set

to make the graves of our dear memorials

in the wet foreboding weather

but instead we embraced it all

stood tall against the sky's falling

inclements

and now rest reminiscing abour our day

amid the storm's gaze.

 

 

Reviews

[Amberlight]

. . . I love the weather motif. There is so much to imagine and match it up with the proper words. This one line, transported me back to when I was 9 in my grandmothers side yard, That's what she called it. The smaller lawn for more private and special occasions. "placing angels on the graves of those that came before us now resting in our side yard."
Poets can do something that few can, they can touch hearts with mere words and memories.