Seasons of The Self

I am a speck of dust in the whirling winds of a tornado,

I am a glob of molten lava from an angry spewing volcano,

I am a drop in the vicious downpour of a thunderstorm,

I am a flame in a roaring fire engulfing all;

I am chaotic and torn.

I am the sole cloud floating lazily in a clear blue sky

I am the petal on a blooming tender orchid

I am the gentle ripple in the placid waters of a lake

I am the musical note in a soothing overture

I am calm and whole.

These are my seasons. My self made symphony.