There’s something brewing
below the surface.
The clap of thunder
the flash of lightning
blinding most people,
so they can’t see,
the undercurrent pulling them
dragging them
away.
There’s something taking root
underground.
The yellow coating of pollen
the wind whipping around
redirecting most people
so they can’t hear
the new life
grounding.
There’s something breaking through
on the horizon,
just behind the clouds.
The hazy fog
of a new day
distracting most people
so they can’t feel
the hope of
morning light.