In My Solitude

In the center of the whirlwind

Storm whirls around me uprooting and blowing away all I am; Bringing me from other places things I do not want and can not use. Refuge from the violent storm, from rains of tears and winds of harsh words I seek. Not in some far away place do I find, nor even in places near, shelter. I seal myself from the storm and go within. Nurture, protect, this small inner part of me, this place of solitude. The storm is the teacher. For there is the calm, the peaceful silence, in the center of the whirlwind. copyright © 1997 by Jo Clayson reprinted by permission

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Solitude