Some storms

Last night there were violent protests all over France (govt reform of the retirement pension regime) and an electric storm travelled across our area. As often happens, it followed the Garonne at a furious rate, and we only saw sheet lightning, very briefly.
This morning, the Oracle gave me this poem that I find disturbing and shall probably go back to her later, check that she’s feeling better.

Some storms

My storm is the one you should run from,
the one you watch to make sure it doesn’t boil,

but even a mother is not only milk of human kindness,
she will walk, treading fierce in the footsteps of the lost

to the shore, and when the storm breaks, it will not be
madness that draws up the sea in a roaring mantle of fury,

but the mother’s despair and the child’s blank eyes that
cradle this world in spent arms and put time to sleep.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

14 thoughts on “Some storms”

      1. It might have been a fox. I put food out behind the barn, but I have smelled fox in the porch occasionally. Animals like toads and hedgehogs come around the house, wander into the porch and decide they like it there. It’s chaotic when the dogs go out for their last pee before bedtime.

      2. I haven’t seen a hedgehog around here for years. They used to snuffle right by our door every night – no longer.

  1. Oh, that is disturbing! And sad. I hope if you go back, she feels a bit more hopeful.

    Fortunately, the Oracle knew about my lovely morning walk–yesterday–and decided to base her poem on that, not the news here.

  2. Unfortunately an accurate reflection of our world. I too hope she finds a less despairing message for you later. Mine is poised on the edge, questioning, as usual. (K)

    1. I looked at the next set of tiles and used the words that she gave me and not much else. Same with the third set. She wrote the messages, neither hopeful nor lyrical. Only the second half of the last poem made sense.

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