Crystal Ball
Powerful forces are at work.
Oceans of air, mists, reflecting rays
Bright and white.
Mushrooming ever higher, ever colder,
Expelling down drafts over the plains.
The evening is cooler, there is an interval
Of quiet, but now further south
A gray gulf awaits, heavy and listless
Absorbing all that would enter.
Look intently.
Don't judge.
A small cyclone wound tightly
On Mexico's shores.
Streams above waters race from tropical islands
To near Newfoundland.
Like a 'noreaster it turns and moves
Huge air masses in its wake.
Remain quiet.
Remember what you have seen, then look up
And forget.
Swim, or better yet, sleep.
Forms arise from within
From the quiet.
Let them take you by the hand.
Chantelle is there, and Humberto too.
You listen,
And then, you know.
Speak it. Create it.
What did you see in the crystal?
Crystal Ball
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