Surrender of the Storm


As if I had been taken by the current of your magnetic pull, I moved with the fatalistic knowing of an inevitability of galactical and interstellar proportions and even though I knew there were other options, still I moved with only the compelling certainty of a sand storm in a deserted desert, a storm that rendered me blind and buried me in a dune so high and magnificent it could be seen for many light years.

Such is the magnetism of my body towards yours, such is the understated and underestimated force of divine wisdom.

I give up the glory to the divine, partly because it is best to be humble in such matters, but mainly because I did not plan this and I take comfort that my perfect incompetence may actually have been only turbulence in the grand design of the universe.

(It wasn’t my will).

And against all gravity defying logic, I am here, as was always and  eternally predicted.

‘Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child. Heaven’s got a plan for you.”

A summer song from a summer playlist echoes in my head. Good. Well that’s that sorted then. Phew! I can carry on now happily making a mess.

What a mess.

I am no longer certain, (if indeed ever I was), at which specific moment the synapses in my brain exploded. I only know that they did.

What a mess.

All over various countries and counties. All over an array of innocent bystanders. All over a vast variety of room decor.  All over myself, inside-out.

What a mess.

Here I am. Against the prevailing wind.

Space punk.

Gypsy antagonist.

Overwhelm junkie.

Surrendered storm.

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