williwaw

i let go the aching
i let go the bliss
into memory i pack them
done, for now, with this
the year is moving onward
my clock ticks up a notch
and calm becomes
a longed for friend
content, a treasured guest
the wild williwaws of my past
cyclonic whirling tempestuous tirades
have depleted me
and i look to the porch
to the morning bird
and a cup of tea
to restore myself to myself
sans the seesaw
of a mind frenzied
harried by the black dog
and the pecking crows
racing always to the cliff's edge
a heart that cannot do things by halves
but ever leaps with nary a look
and in the placid tinkle
of a teaspoon in a mug
serenity awaits