Tempest True

Where art thou life?

Why am I caught in this whirlwind when I seek direction?

When I pursue a course, it closes itself to me.

When I flee, the storm follows and closes in upon me.

And then on days whim, there's a break in the storm.

And the sun breaks through the abandon,

Clearly calls to me.

And I forget that I was at all lost.

Her steady warm beam speaks, though I know not her tongue.

Her message hidden, impresses her verity upon me.

And just when I have grown accustomed to her grace,

Another gale.

Stronger this time, completely re-orienting.

Why are my ways not sufficient to an end?

I turn my bow again, piercing ahead while I can.

At times fleeing at the sound of thunder, or else, flirting with the torrent's rage.

I fight the seas till I learn that the tempest itself be a guide

to take up a violent, lively dance with. 

So I take my stance, looking clearly past the bow.

But lo, lightning strikes brightly ahead.