Friday, May 15, 2009

Storms



What if a tornado took me to Oz


and left Dorothy brewing at Aunt Em.


Wet meets dry, spinning clouds, throwing thunder,


and I’m off the ground, light as a feather.


Would you even notice my departure?


No seatbelts to buckle. Just departure.


Where is that yellow brick road of such fame?


I’ll follow it, oh I’ll follow that road.


I’ll follow it until my tendons snap,


until the scarecrow saves me from myself.


Beware me friend, I’ll spin your straw to gold


and leave you a heap of rags in the road.


What a gift it would be to spin sadness,


Spin it like a tornado or a spool


to self-destruct or hide in a drawer.


But, what if there is no Oz at journey’s end?


Will I ride that wind like a blue wave


and wash up on the shores of contentment


or, will it eat me like hungry lions


feeding on worthlessness and gristle bone?



** photo from http://www.wendyswizardofoz.com/wiz_bw07.jpg