Thoughts gust and billow,
The sails of consciousness.
Tearing down equanimity,
Whipping up despondency.
Mind is tossed and turned.
Finding no fine calmness,
No quiet act of divinity;
Can settle and let it be.
Yearning for the solace,
Lost in squall’s madness.
Cyclone’s destructive proclivity,
to disturb a sense of decency.
Then the worst is over, leaving
persistent rains of sadness.
Mind’s cyclone bows to gravity,
& battered, but lucid you see.
It was simply passing weather
The awesome greatness,
Of melancholy’s audacity,
Obsolete to patience’s key
LauraElizaHaynes 