Alice Kriel

African Storm

Heat rising like a tidal wave
Clouds gather like an avalanche
Draw me to you like water to earth
And let the storm begin

Warning breath of what I crave
Electricity tenses like a cheetah on a branch
We are nearing the birth
And the air starts to sing

The first flash, followed by a clap
Herald the liquid orbs breaking
Mouths communicate without words
Blood rushing between soil and sky

A silver rip in the velvet heaven
A bullet tears the dark atmosphere
Fingers stampede like wild herds
Sparks fly between you and I

Lightning turns the sky to map
The roots of the old tree are shaking
Wind tears my flat inhibitions away
And I lie willingly exposed

The rain drowns the world of men
Nothing to see, the road is clear
The ancient one has started to sway
Our shadows become the black crow

A sudden silence, the world stops its spin
Hushing in respect of the approach
A streak of true God, the old tree falls
An intake of pure power and we are there

A moment outside, a lifetime within
Set yesterday’s debris on the present to float
The storm follows the Western call
Abruptly leaves the breathless air

Fisted nails release into caring hands
We have fallen off the mountain
And find ourselves in a quiet land
Loving the sun, but waiting for the storm to come again
To kill the dream
So we can live

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 28, 2006

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Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken



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