The eye of the storm

It’s amidst the turmoil, calm doesn’t prevail for miles and miles the eyes can behold

Stirring vigorously the entrails, the soul, the reality of being

Lashing and thrashing out the truth, the beautiful truth never to be seen

The vehemence, the myriad of emotions, the consciousness all churning fast

What an irony this, it is the safest haven, around the most violent form

Waves beating high, the whirlpool in motion and here it is- 

The eye of the storm….

The blues and the greens of the sea are visible but it covers the eye

What could be the color of the eye, questions the sky-

Maybe it is the red of the cheeks of the lover so shy.

The choppy sea has its pits its depth the fathomable sea bed

What holdeth the eye?

Maybe it feels like the softness of caress or the shiny wild tresses on the head.

The wrath of the sea goes wild with wind, blows helter skelter the waters none can halt

What is the sensation near the eye?

Maybe it is like the tingling of buds when the tongue sweeps the lip and tastes the salt.

The encore of the sea, the loud musings of thunder, the flash of lightening bright

This brutal orchestra but what is the sound of the eye?

Maybe it is the soft whispers of love poetry and passionate couplets of fantasies on flight.

The eye of the storm draws you to it, holds you, covers you, protects you and checks you

It affects but saves its effect

In or out of it- life wouldn’t be perfect

Yet you seek it you need it you wish for it

Coz in the wild wild storm, its arms are the only place you safely fit.