...

It is inevitable
insuppressible and inflexible
it roars down the chimneys, might
even crawl in through the shadows

The bull frogs hush their act,
the wind slows down a bit. And
it comes rushing in from nowhere
straight down onto my face.

It may be welcomed,
loathed or even disregarded.
It's here and here it is
to stay, the invincible.

Overwhelmed I know not what
to do. I drink it the forbidden
for what possible vileness can
singe me with you by my side.

It could be benevolent
benign or belligerent.
Unknown it is still and
aplenty is dread in darkness.

The bull frogs croak louder than
before, the beacons are still shining,
the den is abuzz with activity,but my
mind has settled down to a new beat.

It is universal
eternal and impartial.
A rule of the universe, it is
said and certainly is for the best.

You are still here, the same, and
same am I, but not for me are
those higher echelons, no longer
can I see the den or the beacons.

It is change
the word that runs the world
an unexpected cousin of time visiting
perhaps, change that changes the world.

Blissful I am still, tranquility find
I might, but the heart still longs
for that cool gust of wind playing
with my hair,that unmistakable scent,
the shooting stars,the beacons,the den,
the trees, the birds but most of all
sitting beside you and watching the world go by.

This would be an epilogue to A walk in the clouds.