The dust storm I see coming but cannot avoid
Close my eyes
My mouth
Block all the ways it can enter my house
Yet still the fine particles filter inside
Regardless
Perhaps it would be better to open wide
Become the storm
Cease to hide
Deconstruct all barriers
Then watch where the dust flows
Let it settle
Clean it up later
For there is nothing that we are not
And that is not us
In us
It’s the walls we raise
The distance we forge
And then defend to the last man
The separation and fear of “other”
That prevents
Equilibrium


Absolutely loved the poem. Fear of “other” as well as fear of change most definitely prevents equilibrium. I wish more people were open to everything the world has to offer instead of fearing it.
Hi Pooja, I am thinking about this a lot at the moment. Fear is an imaginary obstacle we place in our path. And it isn’t terror, it’s that small fear, fear of discomfort, fear of the unknown, doing something different. I have a trip coming up next month that is different to anything I’ve done before and I’m half thinking maybe not. Maybe don’t go. Because it’s easy to make that choice, the one that doesn’t take me out of my comfort zone. But on the other hand, every time I get out of the comfort zone I am propelled into the most amazing place of growth. So I have to go. I know this at soul level, but at the mental level there is a whole debate going on. But I’ll go. It’s just the in between stage, the pregnancy of an idea that is difficult to carry.
I know the struggle, I have anxiety and I have the same internal struggle. A part of me doesn’t want to go even though I know I’ll have fun if I go. It’s hard getting out of our comfort zone since at the end of the day it’s still a risk. But I think one that’s often worth it.
Always 😊
Perhaps it is better to open wide
To become the storm. That’s a fabulous line. That’s called being brave and bringing your strength out.
The other leaves the mind pondering .. so much insight in this post, Kate. It is a post for contemplation.. I will mull on this.
Hugs 🤗
Thanks Yassy. I’m mulling too 🤗🫶✨
Thanks for sharing this idea of the dust your poem. Anita
My pleasure Anita
A few different perspectives on your intriguing poem, Kate:
“Become the storm” is an alluring metaphor.
Reminds me of the song Dust in the Wind by Kansas. 🎶
The Sonoran Desert has some serious dust storms called, Haboobs, that can blanket the area in a thick dust cover. Unsafe for traveling.
We used to experience dramatic dust storms where I grew up Michelle, you could see them coming like huge red walls in the sky. My poor Mother, they left so much dust throughout the house and especially along the wide gauzed verandahs where there would be thick rivulets like at the beach.
Ugh! Huge red walls in the sky is very descriptive. They are huge brown walls here. Fascinating to the see the ariel footage.
so true,Kate and well introduced by the metaphor of the dust storm —
Went through so many dust storms growing up John. They can certainly upset the equilibrium.
It so is the walls we raise.