7:44 AM A Tipsy Refrain

The gusts are now
fierce and frightening.
Larger limbs are being
routinely ripped from
their hosts and hurled aloft
towards the south,
river bound.
The sound
of the wind
is like a groan,
a deep,
low-pitched,
whispery,
oscillating,
“ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhooooooooooohhhhhhhhh”
that rumbles and resonates
deep down in my chest.
The groaning of the wind
Is oddly calming,
like an organic mantra,
a majestic reminder of
the power around us,
a reminder of
the impersonal nature
of nature,
a reminder that we are,
in reality,
puny little
insignificant creatures
living on an
insignificant planet
orbiting
an insignificant star
in
an insignificant quadrant
of an
insignificant galaxy,
isolated by so so much.

It is also a reminder of
just how marvelous
it is to be alive,
to have the privilege of
witnessing the
majestic power of nature
witnessing what
we like to
describe as
“reality”
unfolding before me,
experiencing the world
around me,
feeling the world,
watching,
listening,
touching,
smelling,
tasting,
intuiting,
dreaming —
the totality of the experience.