Storms and Stillness

An approaching storm 

encroaches on

quiet stillness

while two candles glow

on a desk

near a window

with flames hovering

above a poet's verse.

Far off, thunder rolls

unyielding,

ready 

to answer sharply

quarreling clouds.

As light flashes

across the sky

rain probes 

the window

with its delicate fingers.

In minutes

the gutter overcrowds

with rainwater 

from the roof.

Water slaps 

with great hatred

the front sidewalk.

Trees

in the flash of light

bend, dance, and

tangle with wind.

But as quickly as

it arrived

the storm,

appearing to retract,

refrains

and moves on.

Though sounds of dripping

still throb from 

the gutter,

stillness resumes

an umbrella of calm.

The poet 

exploiting the

situation 

finishes his poem

about a storm.

Reviews

[Zoe Richardson]

"water slaps with great hatred the front sidewalk". That image really struck me. The storms both inside and out inspire us. You captured the nature of both with your words.

[Relic]

Thanks so much for the comment, Zoe. Good to see you here again.

[Zoe Richardson]

Thank you! It's good to be here.

[John the Baptist]

The storm seems symbolic of the creative process going on in the poet's mind. The poem is finished, hopefully to the poet's satisfaction. Also hopefully, it will seem just as complete tomorrow.

[Relic]

A good interpretation, John. Thank you.

[Chris Shaw]

Nothing like a night storm to inspire your creative side. I very much enjoyed all the sound and movement contained in your lines Tim. A thoroughly descriptive write.

Chris

[Relic]

I always appreciate your comment, Chris. Thank you.

[DIVYA]

A very descriptive poem, it brings the storm right outside my mind's window. Storms can be very absorbing and exciting to observe. You had the pulse of that storm. I enjoyed it.

[Relic]

Thanks very much for your thoughts on this, DIVYA.

[Stella Armour]

It is just moments like these that are so inspirational for poets, i wouldn't be a bit surprised if it wasn't the same for musicians especially the more classical orchestrated music.
I have found myself in the last few years writing poems inspired by moments, especially those who others don't even seem to notice happening.

[Relic]

I'm actually a drummer - 50+ years. :) Poets seem to tune into things non-writers would ignore. Thanks for the comment, Stella. Hope you're doing well.

[Stella Armour]

Hi Tim, well yes, being a drummer you will have been tapping out the rhythm of the storm .... the music of nature 🎵.

[Lorry]

Have you ever noticed that while watching a storm that you hold your breath? Oh, just me then!
I think it harks back to a time in school that we watched lightning dance through the sky and brighten up an otherwise drab day.
We were all gathered round the windows, which im sure health and safety would have something to say about these days and I noticed everyone was gasping at each flash, so me being already wise beyond my tears decided not to breathe just in case someone gasped it down as I breathed out.
But I do still have that wide eyed youthful wonder, underneath the sagging bags and crows feet. Every time I see a storm I gasp, in memory of that youthful collective at the school window, thinking that someone had proper annoyed old Ma Nature, who was throwing a sissy fit, where we just watched in silence in case her ire turned and aimed at us.
It is still early here (5:40 am) so before I sipped my coffee and read this I misread the title as storms and silliness. (Note to self...visit optician)
So I already had my silliness all lined up and was ready to advise for ultimate silliness during a storm you could always rip the clothes off your partner (with her permission of course) and make wild passionate love while role playing that you are participating in the conception of the anti-christ!
Well, it sure brightens up a dull Monday! 😀

[Relic]

lol good one Lorry. I suppose through fright some people do become silly. Being silly with a naked wife or girlfriend would benefit many who are frady cats I guess. :))) It's early here to. I'll see this reply and cringe later. :) Thanks for the comment.

[RomaJ]

I love how you juxtapose the storm’s fury with the quiet scene on the desk. The imagery is so vivid -- lines like "rain probes thoroughly the glass with delicate fingers" and "water slaps with great hatred the front sidewalk" really made me feel like I was watching the storm move through in real time. "Great hatred' is an absolutely brilliant phrase to describe the rain; I just love that personification. It’s inspiring that you were able to find the focus and craft such brilliant poetry amid that chaos.

[Relic]

What a great review. Thank you very much, Romaj. Much appreciated. :)