name of the wind

Darkness comes battering, upon you
flung open in your every chasm
torn naked, shattering nightlong calamities
torrents of emptiness, undertow so strong
you pulled your head above water
with each word.

At dawn, at last,
something to sustain
a share of the turbulence
your shell, nourished in its first solidity
keeping yourself safe, keeping yourself
apart.

You are now agape
shockingly aware you cling to the dead
lift nothing to the power of open light
but fear and mud.

In a landscape brutally cleansed
a serene strangness flows through you
like your flooded home, all doors thrown open
unable to contain this bursting forth, this want
for being whole again.