A tree in a heavy wind

A late night and a stormy morning. Aborted 5:30 alarm in favor of sleep. In retrospect its not clear how wise this was.

The weather inside mirrors the weather outside. As waves of rain sweep through the city crowding radar maps with bright colors, I find my own sensitive instruments periodically overwhelmed.

Blood filled with adrenaline has a battery acid feel to it. Skin and heart and lungs charged to the sparking point like a 9-volt on the tongue.

Acute sense of impending doom but no clear sense of direction. There is something here; something wants to be heard, but the message is unfocused. Where does this ill wind blow from? From what depths has this unnamed animal passion bubbled up from to break noxiously at the surface?

Don’t know.

Fear? Longing? Injury? What is this?

Don’t know.

Roots reach out looking for ground.