Tempests

Tempests following black clouds forever falling into our memories,

Twice timed and two times folded along melodies missing words,

Empty,

And space grows even more vast,

Who tells time correctly?

Or is it all inaudible,

Knowing measurement precedes old discrepancies of faith,

All sound, halts,

To allow only for silence to dictate,

Surrounds and envelops all,

Why our tendencies to fall?

Helplessly, giving all,

Never knowing until all is lost,

More often than not,

One,

Many bright twinkled lights, formidable so to squint as the brick backdrop glows red,

Curtains pulled, a naked scroll hung on the wall,

Now a new found home,

Sits alone,

Lights and windows facing,

All apparent underwear lacy and beauty,

Left untouched by these hands,

Words, become broken only by the sound here,

One man, Mechi Sidek, to stand, whispering wind

Contributing to the silence,

Logic,

Thoughts fluid,

Mystic, and mysticism,

Fruits of life, spoken aloud,

Piercing the eyes which follow his and my, every move,

All things said and collected,

Tonight to stand, well recollected…

                                    K.