Dark Storm Brew

A Poem

A lingering thing, this feeling of unsettledness.
Micro-tremors, shivers not quite electric shocks,
through each organic part that coalesses 
to form this vessel temporarily lost upon the rock.

An emotional tightrope has lost its tension
bouncing crazed, arms floundering 
like wings that will never en-flighten 
to the place the emotion’s surrendered in.

Searching for hope and longingly thinking
there is surely one, who has an idea,
imparted or calculated for what this dance
is all about. What and why we have to feel.

Sometimes positioned as researcher
capturing strangers in the hope that one
who’s lost, lone, together or confident
might enable picking up the trail, getting on the first rung.

I lose my way, my drive has broken.
Ensure things are moving, keep up momentum.

The wind picked up today, demonising the trees
the sky was a straining dark storm brew.
The pressure drop was real and painful, 
somewhere between a hangover or man-flu.

It’s only as these days have piled up
that the layers of doubt have stuck.
Back when we were young it was unconscious, 
carefree, not to simply ride our luck.

But now we are atrophied, paralysed by
a need for reason, a need for hope.
This thankless condition, that we force 
ourselves into, we cannot break, discard nor overlook.

Now the rain has started, perhaps the
ache will subside a little, the patina glossed,
look past the immediate, you know it will
pass, free up perhaps, not everything’s lost.

I know, I know,  never give in. 
The darkest things can only get lighter,
seek illumination, seek out the solace
force yourself forwards, determined, the fighter.

---

Sennen, Cornwall, 2021. Nikon d750

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