finding peace from the unresolvable tussle between heart and mind;


in the rushing gusts, the ferocious speed, the intensity of darkness


moments flashing by


in the rhythm of the turning pedals, the whistling wind-tones, the harsh staccato of a downpour and the percussive clash of lightning and thunder.


My element.


race the storm home;


wordlessly i sing in the rain.


I show my face once, then all is lost in shadow.


Everyone wants to be noticed.


But such an action to take, would not be truly mine.


The cellists are ready.


all that is left then, is to pray.....and hope....


Countdown 4:


No apprehension. No worry.


But I'll still be giving my all.