Poem #4: A Tempest Soul in Reality is never really real.

Watch the lightning, spiderweb, across the midnight sky. The hairs on your arm stand on end, and beg for you to fly.

The rolling clouds call your name, and the crackling energy in the breeze, you can feel the reigns on your humanity, slowly start to ease.

The steady increase of your heart beat, the blood rushing to your head, the feeling swelling in your chest, that hurts, aches and begs.

To run and jump, to dance and writhe, to leap and bound and howl

To let the chaos inside you loose, hungry,and on the prowl.

To feel the rain run down your body, in knowing, teasing, intimacy

To scream and have the thunder answer its booming resonancy.

Lose yourself in your true nature, run with the clouds, and spin with the wind

Fall with the droplets, and leap with the lightning, and cry to the sky.

revel in that freedom, in which no mortal may ever take or tame.

For when the storm calls, you answer.

For you hold within you a tempest soul, and storm born is your name.

-Whisper