In the weather of the heart and soul
A symphony of emotions unfold
From damp to dry, the golden shot
A storm within the freezing tomb, a fierce onslaught
The quarter of the veins, a weathered domain
Turning night to day, blood in their suns, a pulsing refrain
Lights up the living worm, igniting the flame
Of life, of love, of passion, a never-ending game
In the eye, a forewarning of the bones
Blindness creeping in, a darkness that enthrone
The womb driving in a death as life leaks out
A paradox of existence, a whisper, a shout
A darkness in the weather of the eye
Is half its light, the fathomed sea, a mystery in sight
Breaks on unangled land, a force unfurled
Unveiling the depths, the secrets of the world
The seed that makes a forest of the loin
Forks half its fruit, and half drops down, in a silent join
Slow in a sleeping wind, the cycle of life
Unfolding before us, amidst joy and strife
In the flesh and bone, a weathered tale is told
Damp and dry, the quick and dead, intertwined in a mold
Moving like two ghosts before the eye
A dance of life and death, a never-ending sigh
In the weather of the world, a process unfolds
Turning ghost to ghost, each mothered child holds
Sits in their double shade, a duality of existence
A reflection of the past, a glimpse of persistence
Blowing the moon into the sun, a transformation complete
Pulling down the shabby curtains of the skin, a bittersweet defeat
And the heart gives up its dead, releasing the pain
A cycle of life and love, in the weather of the heart\'s refrain. (\"The Weather of the Heart\") by Courtney Weaver Jr