I have a hurricane inside my ear. I don’t know how,
But now, each night as I go to sleep,
It roars its way around my head.
At first, I asked if others could hear it too –
None of them knew what I was talking about
Until I opened up my mouth and let
The sound slip out. They were amazed
And crowded in to hear it once again,
Though when I tried, nothing more came.
On some days, it feels like a wounded animal
And all I want to do is cup it in my hands
To show it that nothing will go wrong.
On others, though, it finds its way into
My roots, shearing and pulling. It takes
My valence and sends the earth into the air.
So now I sit here, listening to it turn
And sing and surge its way around,
Waiting for the hour when its eye comes.