Warily

Warily do I walk now, whimpering internal warnings of welfare,
weary and weakened from weeping and war, I welcome the whispers of "no more,please,no more".

This isn't the country I used to know . . years ago. Is it me, or does it feel like a jail, and I can't find the door, anymore? Isolated, but impatient. I wait. Indebted, indignant. What fate . . . awaits ?

Business and burdens and background checks, bitter broadcasts with scandalous specks . . of scrutiny.
Shadows and shame and spiritual sleep, how did I ever get in it this deep ? Into this social sheet of slavery containing sinister sentiment ?

What is the likelihood of living off of the grid ? Will they find me sooner or later ? Longing for liberal license to legitimately lounge in literature and love?

Warily, scarily, I make my way through the retarded receptions readied for reactionaries such as myself.

Warily I forge a frantic fear of lost freedom.

Warily, I write of wicked wrongs.

Warily, I made my way through the woods, to an open meadow on a hill,
Here I knelt, looking around to be sure I was alone . . I was.
As I stretched out and laid on my back the winds picked up nearby leaves, swirling them up and away.
A drop of rain landed on my face, wonderfully cold and wet. A warning perhaps ?

I stared up into the gray sky, startled by the actual speed of some of the clouds flying past.
I felt dizziness, giddy dizziness, and excitement.
Off to my left the first lightning strike hit about two miles away, boldly streaking to the ground.
When the thunder came crackling I shook from the vibrations.

A quick silence followed, and I was only aware of the fresh smells a pending storm brings with it.
I had just enough time to inhale a second time before the deluge hit hard.
Hailstones crashed into my face, then beady rain in torrents.
In seconds I was soaked from head to foot.

I lay there laughing now, hoping the lightning would find me soon.
Death by lightning, death by nature ! What a rush ! What a way to go !
And another strike . . maybe fifty feet away ! And boom !
Another, then another. I felt the heat from the last one, a burning, near my leg.

The rain fell so hard it felt like it was cutting little slashes in my face.
And the noise, the roar so loud . . . so loud I screamed back at it, caught up in the panic.
Keeping my eyes open was difficult but necessary as I searched for the next bolt of lightning.
When it hit me everything went white, and I evidently passed out.

Warily, minutes later, I woke up. The thunder and lightning had moved to another hill, farther away.
Warily, I sat up.
Warily, I stood up. I was alive !
Warily, I laughed.