I find it most odd…

How the sky is never
So blue as the day after,

Ironically tethered
To the conclusion of
a relentless, unruly storm

I find it most odd…

How now I find great peace
Amidst the shifting winds,

Blows in soothing release; 
Smells of rain awaken my ‘within’s’
And the downpour begins

Anticipation,
Dilated eyes 
String of electricity
Body recalling it’s reprise 

I find it most odd…

How the blue aftermath,
when my pupils constrict,
I find peaceful recognition
in the path
of the storm before the calm