The Twister’s Eye

How is it I’m made out to be the one who presses forward
     As I do the two hour trip back home in seven short hours
          And thirty dollars worth of frivolous food
               Laugh nervous laugh all day, and do three vital talks
                     With only vague awareness that my
                           Tongue goes on machine-gun like
                                Somewhere out there
                                     Beyond my mind’s control.

I look up through the hole and see blue sky
     While all around the twister’s eye the
          Whirling wall stays equidistant from this
                Center where I stand in eerie silence
                     Yet aware its forward wall approaches rifles lowered
                          With silent terrors’ screams of those now
                               Caught up in its hell –

The phone call from the Richter’s 6.5 that all is well
     Despite the living hell of earthquake’s shaky day,
          The papers’ shout of soldier blown apart by
                Roadside bomb,
                     Betrayal’s news of summit peak denied,
                          And job transition’s convoluted side,
                               As life continues on despite our
                                     Feelings and despair – the wall
                                         Approaches – still out there –

‘Just step up to that booth’, it says, ‘and take what
     Will be given – all’s decided and they know
         But you’ll not find out till you go
              Up to the wicket – take a seat and
                   They’ll hand out a whack of
                        Such proportions you’ll not
                             Comprehend – or pie
                                  So sweet it’s very crust
                                       Will melt
                                             Into a succulental
                                                  Heaven of full
                                                       Reprieve –

As others whirl in hell around you leaving you
     To walk away unscathed – a bad joke all – or
          Miracle, or error made – you’re free
               To go – just fix your act and
                    Come back soon to check
                          If other sites emerged
                               That’s all, good day –
                                    Been nice –
                                         All done.”

Dream on, I say to self as I go forward
     Heels dug in resisting all the way
          The frontward wall’s approach as
                Rearward drifts away
                     Still quiet as the hours
                          Tick by, with Duncan’s
                               Bell a tolling in the
                                     Distant time that
                                          Rushes towards me with its
                                               Ominous rolling sound
                                                    To bid me also – hell or heaven bound

And yet there’s life – above, below, around
     And even in the whirling wall of hell that
           Swirls relentless just outside the range
                Of impact with my soul –

The grandson’s brief “how cool”; and friendships, long neglected,
     With renewal and hope of work together
          Bringing life again to ancient text of two
               Great leaders in their whirl of twisted
                    Air and devastated hope.

So life goes on for all – for tumbled and encircled,
     Beaten and the treated – for both are
          Part of life – the life we live – have always
               Lived – which is most gracious – skies
                   Of blue, sweet flowers in bloom and waving
                        Gentle in the prairie breeze – these
                             Passing storms a front of
                                  Changing circumstance that
                                       Leaves us momentarily confused
                                            In disconnected connectivity –
                                                 Bemused.

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