Strange Wind Poem by Smoky Hoss

There's a strange wind blowing
through my soul,
the likes of which
I've not felt before.
It, I believe, has something to do with the prevailing wind
criss-crossing the country in currents of rage
like a tormented-twister,
shredding everything in it's wayward path,
giving no quarter, taking no prisoners...
starting fires of self-assuredness,
burning down everything, everyone
along the way.

The sun in wild flames is setting.
Who can know how much darkness shall gather
before its return? Or, if it ever will.
There are no more certainties,
be they good or bad;
self reliance is for whom the bell is tolling.
All, the burnt and the burners,
need now to search much deeper,
seeing by the light of the coming flames
that all of us shall burn, if
we don't help pull each other
out of the fire...

A strange wind continues to blow...
my soul wanders these winds with kindred spirits,
ever seeking the calm, where together
we shall gather in peace,
finding our rest...