contemplation, on vacation, hurricane remnant

contemplation, on vacation, hurricane remnant

I can understand the stories,
the lore
here at the shore
when the wind howls like it does now
something beyond man
a power like that only of god
for what else could whip the seas
into a tempest
such as this?
such fury seems aimed
such fury seems personal
we need to aim animus to understand this
such as this
and somehow I am too enamored
hearing the wails of wind
and the crash of waves
like an other world orchestra
even if I understand the underpinnings of the stage…
no, there is still mystical corners
in our defined world
and so I wish to be a sailor
of the olden one.

notes… so here I am, the remnants of a hurricane have come ashore here in south new jersey, cape may, no shortage of storms I am sure if she could tell me the stories, I have been through worse here, this one is now all wind, no rain anymore, wailing, constant wailing coming through my third room floor balcony, I have only my imagination to think of how this must have been ages ago, to hear that deafening wailing, on a ship in or on the shore on, I find it illuminating… fascinating… hypnotizing, and yet I can understand the fear such a wailing demon must have seemed back only a hundred years or so ago… really not that long… and I appreciate my station, to be able to be here to hear this, so I wish to recall this when I can, when I am in the throes of the doldrums of daily office life, to recall this moment, this sound, this experience and how tied I feel to the ocean right now, right here…

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