My mind’s eye
The eye of the storm,
Yet eerily calm, centered.
Chaos encircling every which way
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.