Waiting on the storm to come.
The wind’s been blowing for hours.
An eerie beauty in autumn’s wake
I look at a tree from the tower…
of my window, so secure and boring.
Will the rain be upon me soon?

Like a cloud I can see in the distance,
I want to hide from what’s brewing,
but I wait. And I stare. And I wonder how long til it’s here and not there?
For I am stuck in this day to day.
Struggling to find my way.

Needing this moment to rest.

Waiting on the storm to come.
Hoping it stirs in me a great desire to run.