The Eye of the Storm

the clouds are gathering
far away from
your sleepy eyes,
yet close,
they are closing in
over her unmoored heart,
that cannot be stilled -
no, not any more;
and then
from the eye of the storm,
rises a roll of thunder
and a lightning bolt,
that splits wide open
her encased heart;
and she roars -
her roar is a call
to all those wild hearts
that are tired
of locks and keys
and cozy walls;
those who are willing
to bleed with her,
to roar with her,
to feel the wind,
to touch the earth,
to soak in the rain, and
to smell the inner mystery;
to live untamed
and simply be
without an apology,
in the eye of the storm.