I belong to the storm cradled within purple bruised clouds blowing me out across the sky. I am the storm whirring about like the wild wind, above roof tops diving down to the pavements struggling to fly, chaos. A black crow whose wings are pushing out like a jet plane, up and onwards taking off skyward. I am the green trees bowing over pushed this way and that murmuring movement. Whispering your name up to the dark sky as rain starts to fall, lashing at my face blinking drops that open my eyes. Desiring to swim in cool and luscious wet, feeling damp skin walking home , hair blown , happy. I am a green leaf lifted up and curled away , a small traveller floating out into the air high up above the earth. Where am I now where are we ? No heaviness, no weight, only lightness my tears all fallen. On the fury of the wild storm with the old trees talking to me , holding me close murmuring love. I have come home across my mind’s lands of bitter cold and deep despair. Joining as one with the storm of my heart and soul carried on our horse called memory, discovering oneness from broken bones. You speak to me from inside storm, you show me life at source. Sweet love in sad despair, blinding rage knows joyful freedom, I have felt it all. I am every hurt child, I know pain and she is my friend. Meeting her is my storm, in her I am reborn. Blow me away over the trees , light me up in the sky, all the time murmuring love.