Poetry

"For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."
~ Vincent Van Gogh

Who Am I?

Soon you can hear
the withering assault
pounding on the walls and the roof
the height of the thunderstorm
gale force winds
fury and rage
of hail and driving rain
driving everyone down inside
where no one sees me
because they're all in the basement
staying safe

Who am I?

I'm the kind of guy
who runs
and then walks
alone
to stand tall in the middle of the clearing

arms spread wide

soaking it in

smiling and glowing

still somehow a living
two-year-old kid

completely drenched

mouth gaping upward

gasping at the beauty of it all

in reckless
pure
unbridled
joy

laughing like a maniac