I must fire the storm and let the rain pour.
I cannot hold still or lie down anymore.
A dance in me is burning my muse.
Hidden, sleeping, like an untouched long fuse.
It is painful to move; for too long, life unused.
I stir to wake, or forever to lose.
Break all apart until this heart starts.
Thunder the veins that would seem to depart.
Dance through the glass and the red fallen post.
Clear the halls filled with her irradiant ghost.
Let all the winds call the new heavenly Host
And Find Muse in fire skies that light Beauty most.
Mark all the told and invoke the New
Let all that is Sacred claim this Motion’s Due.
Leaping into the arms of The Evermore
Let the Godly in and all Rainstorms Pour.
©2012 Linda Willows
(photo: Ausadavut Sarum)