Eye of The Storm

My mind’s eye

The eye of the storm,

All-seeing,

All-knowing,

Yet eerily calm, centered.
Chaos encircling every which way

Tornadoes spinning,

Storm clouds approaching,

Yet my breath is in harmony with the still night.
A child once wondered,

What color is the eye of the storm?

The question forever unanswered,

As no one has ever gotten close enough to find out . .

Yet, the eye reflects all the colors of nature unto the world,

As the storm rages past.
Once quiet,

What remains?

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