i am the storm

by autumn williams


i am the storm. 

my voice rolls to you as thunder,

as i ask you again if the 

lightning from my eyes blinds you.


with every breath i draw 

the trees shake

i exhale and they quiver.


i swallow the hills,

devour the sky.

the clouds don’t know what color 

to become upon my arrival, 

pale gray they decide at last.


the sun flees,

the moon illuminates what was once hidden. 


i ask you again how you thought

controlling me was ever an option.


i let my hand drag along the land,

tracing the mountains and valleys and streams.

rain cascades to meet you,

you fall to your knees.


i say again,


i am the storm.


a note from the aritst,

the poem is called “i am the storm.” it came to me at time when i felt very powerless and alone. i had to spend an evening out in a torrential thunderstorm, cold and shivering, all nestled into a tree. i suddenly felt that if i embodies something i was so obviously not i could steal the courage i needed to find help. the storm was me reclaiming my power and strength.