Wake! Wake up!
It screams.
Hear me! Get up!
It whistles.
I hear you.
I reply.
I hear you. I hear, and I rise.
Vapid, it can’t make sense of me.
Ephemeral, with no ears or mind to hear with, it’s not listening.
It continues to pound the windows with the fury of a hungry infant and the power of a nature deity.
It flashes brightly, electric fire demanding observance as if needing to be seen.
It whips savagely, sharp-edged air screaming as if needing to be heard.
It has no arrogance, ego, or personality. This marriage of elements simply lives a short, furious existence, however it pleases, until exhaustion.
Fire was always weakest in me. While wind felt a little — just a little — closer to home, I doubt it’s mine to hold for long.
Patiently, I wait for their tantrum to run its course, desiring sleep.
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