After The Storm Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

On the moment-past’s wide wind-
tossed ocean of the bed
tumultuous waves of bed sheets lie.

Not even a surreptitious breath
disturbs the complete calm
disorder after the storm.

I am at the window
looking out at the morning’s
cold camellias catching fire.

In the tree
a disordered choir
of birds is singing out of tune.

I turn to seek
some harmony within

wonder for a moment where
your dishevelled shape
will ultimately wash ashore.

Turning my back again I see
only one bird chirping in the tree

and the camellia’s fiery glow
already quenched in shadow.