The Storming

i swing my arms back
as if to bow
a controlled collapse
for a chorus i can't resist

my hair is made
and lifted
and ripples in the wind

a pulse a push and its done
ride the cliff
to a mighty ruckus in the waves
an ocean screaming and cheering

return, return

it storms upon our earth
picture the gray
the wind and rain
their demands are few
but their voice is many

to our darkness plunge
swallow what you cannot breathe
may we become you
do not be crushed, but become you

press your fingers in the sand
deep, where you thought you ought not be

it is your flesh which rains
and your lungs that loosed these winds
the storming became you
and from the rocks you ventured
to become it too

behold then, the figures in the dark
these are not nightmares
but your brethren
gone before you to these peaceful elsewheres
beneath the crashing

the winds called them too
the storming asked them onto a path
and so, like you, here they came
not to remain
but to see
become you, here, in the storming