The Twistings of Feeling


6a501db6788f8bc3147fbec59d7a4924_XL

I don’t want to
fight the tight
winding tornado
that spins and ravages
within,
Let it rage I say
It’s been corralled
too long
way too long.
But what of
of its desolation?
Tornadoes
are not creatures
of creation
but of beautiful obliteration.
What good
could ever come
of its release?
Perhaps,
Just perhaps,
Once the whirlwind
Dies upon
Release
A silent peace
will follow
and the
world will
right
And settle,
Slowly
Bit
by
Falling
Bit
Into
Place
Again
On a clear
swept
Field.

By Philip Wardlow

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.