While walking through a warm afternoon
that suddenly turned from bright to dim,
with blazing clouds that began to loom
and shadows grew deeper and light was thin:

My way ahead was unexpectedly barred
by an iron gate, its lock snapped shut.
It’s topped by spikes well made to ward
off hurdlers, sharpened, made to deeply cut.

Past the gatehouse, a tunnel, a fallen shelter
from the rapidly coming hard rainfall
that once was sung about by a jester
in time with a tambourine, as I recall.

It leads to a light that’s still ablaze
where sunbeams’ sheen still sparkles bright,
beckoning us all to pass this gate
that looks at first glance a menacing might.

To stay before this wrought iron fence,
its spikes tipped with red poison that drips
into the soil that’s in cracked distress?
I won’t just wait here in the dawning eclipse.

No lock is unpickable, no wall too high
for those with the will to reach new skies.

Calling out  
To the stars on a solemn night  
Weaving whispers  
Through the shadows that shun the light  
One truth  
I remind myself each day: "Hold on tight"  
Yet still I yearn to ask what’s right?  

Calm stillness  
While the flames dance all around me  
Just a breath  
Before I tumble to my knees  
A sudden quake  
The chaos swells but somehow feels so bright  
For this is my fight  

Shattered another wall, yet it still stands tall  
Scaled the highest peak, yet I’m destined to fall  
Spin me another tale so I can piece my heart together  
It’s like shifting the weather  

All the love that slipped through left me frail and meek  
Heavy clouds, vacant stares, I find it hard to speak  
Just a thread, just to weave my soul back together  
Is like changing the weather  

When all is lost  
Will I ever be found?  
On this trembling ground  
Will you hear the sound  
Of the me that drifts, never to be found?  

For it all feels  
Like changing the weather.