The Storm

 

Beneath the rose colored cheeks and intoxicating smile of my love

I find the ominous darkness that haunts him

Between the gentle resetting of his hair and his endearing glare

I perceive the devastation and turmoil he sets aside

Before the delicate moment of our lips meeting and our souls momentary union

I feel the serenity of his endearment enrapturing my panic

Here I stand in the lighthouse of our joining

My love the beacon that shines deep into the dark gatherings of his inner thoughts

He does not desire to hide from me and creates space for me to enter into his turmoil

I stand on the brink of his inner rumblings and his perfect peace

I dare not accept the invitation of the ease that occupies the center of his existence

I dare not go where he is unable to reside with me

The Lightning I see are the wounds the world leaves on his skin

The Thunder I hear is his mighty response to the doubt the world would cast upon him

Behold the man

Behold his magnitude

Do not seek him in to quiet stillness

Because The Storm you perceive, He is. 

This poem is dedicated to J.S.