Daniela Oana - Poet and Photographer

The Seven Storms

 

There is a storm inside my wine glass

The turbulent wine rises up to the rim

And when I sip, a wave comes choking me

And breathless, I sink out of sight

 

There is a storm inside my novel

The pages ruffle loudly in chaos

And when I shut it, so do my eyes,

For that was my own tragic end

 

There is a storm inside my hourglass

The disturbed sand shakes even the glass

And when I turn it over, taming the fury,

Both the glass and my heart shatter at once

 

There is a slashing storm at my back

The force is veering me off my path

And when I face it to conquer its winds,

I see my feet have walked the wrong path

 

There is a storm inside my dream

The sun is blocked along with my feet

And when I remember that it's just a dream,

Its lethal thunder strike came true

 

There is a storm caught in my palms

Flooding the trench of my deep lifeline

And when I wipe my eyes dry of their pouring,

I find an arid desert and engulfing sandstorm

 

There is a storm in my playing cards

The Kings and Queens all fled into hiding

And when I find a survivor under the rubble,

All cards aside, reveal my Death card