The Herald

The tempest screams a warning in the night.

The Herald


It was the wind that woke me.
The desperate wail had reached me
in my dreams,
to herald the oncoming storm.

A warning of its anger.

The tempest had found its voice,
and the discordant tones howl
at the windows
making them dance
to its command.
The ivy vines beat desperately
at the glass
begging to escape its wrath.

In the midnight gloom,
all my fears descend.
They surround me like a cloak
and threaten to choke me,
to darken my world,
and block out the light.

And then,
a vacuum of silence.
An eerie calm settles over the room.
It's as if the world were holding its breath,
waiting,
waiting.

The room suddenly lights up
shaking the earth.
The thunder roars one angry protest
and then mumbles away into silence.
As the raindrops begin to fall,
the wind rushes by
on a forlorn breath.

Warning of the storm once more.