The Storm

November storms take the last leaves from the trees
Growing on the branches in the summer
Blown by violent gale force wind into the twilight
Down to the ground they fall to the hammering winter

As light fades, I watch helpless from the backroom window
The insecurity of love confront the stormy evening
Blown across the hillside, dissolving in the night
Passing the watchful in the darkness on the road

Tired of turmoil I sit qui-vive in the amorphous room
A towering darkness separates me from your life
I see through the storm as if it were glass, your home
As crashing furious darkness spreads over the road

The ruthlessness of the storm has no time for a goodbye Will not see the comedy played in the shelter of the heart
Or remember the love story ending in the winter shadows
Wants only power and fear to cast out the dying year

No light is seen in the dark pouring rain
Fiercely splattering the window and then hurriedly sweeping on
For the future is a puzzle gathering in the darkness
An insecure mirror of nature born from destruction

The ancient river of life assembles in the unknown
Beneath the stratus, static shadows of memory begin
With the consciousness of how incomplete experience remains
As winter prepares the new season beyond the storm