Cyclone

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.