Nature of 4am

Nature of 4am

As the wind is blowing
And the storm approaches -
        when the spirit
Of the unfinished invades thoughts…

The clear light of day does sometimes
        bring truth. But
Lovers’ prose
                 hidden confessions
poetic rhetoric
        is in time suspended darkness.

Effigies scatter on the tail
Of the Northwestern wind
            whipping from behind
Leaves - whirling together their
        Unconsummated dance.

Pride and fear are the
        enemies of Fulfillment.
The vilification of happiness
                a perceived cost.
The pain of ebb and flow
        etched into the memory
                    of the heart.

As waves crash their mark upon
            the cliffs and bluffs -
the wind
            bends trees to breaking
            the tide
                    froths beaches to foam
So do we anticipate the next blow.

        How to make the crossing?
            Crushed with the stillness
of pristine night above

            Chaos hurricanes among us
            As will is stripped -
Fate wins a momentary victory.