Swirls of squalls and whirls of wind
wreak apart the peace of heaven
and instead born into a wrath
sweeps the sky alas ~
It is
chaos careening
forwards and backwards,
all directionless
is it?
The beauty in anarchy:
the soreness of solace
strange oddities found in
peculiar moments
I think
it\'s madly gorgeous
the way rain falls
into mouths of children;
playing in storms
so fearless and wondersome.