Cyclone

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I had my eye of calm quiet space, amid confusion wildly hurled, in which I used to watch and wait as about me whirled the world.

And looking up, out of myself, I saw your face amid the bustle, With calm, bright eyes, and lucid health Your thoughtful voice devoid of hustle.

And I leapt out, into the wall Of shifting, moving, whipping things It caught me, threw me, made me fall Just like a bird with broken wings.

And now when I have no defense When I can quietly stop and see: All the things you said make sense: The only thing that moves is me.

I am the wind about my heart That shreds and flays my confidence I keep me wild and set apart I treat the world with violence

And so, right now, I have to slow This frenzied, whirling, crazy spin, To search and find what I can do With this, my strange cyclone within.