(for William W. Linthicum)

When I reincarnate,
I want to come back as
a storm,
a thing of vast, swirling
too massive for anything
resembling a question;
I am that I am.

I will be gargantuan,
and wind,
enough electricity
to light up new planets,
and I will smile down
with love on the earth
I am
raining on
and reigning over;
there will be no moment
in relief of me as I pass by,
no escape,
though I will be admired—I insist.

And when my work is done,
I will seek the sea
from where I first arose,
where my belly slowly filled with
salted liquid,
molecules of uncountable creatures,
liquefied ashes of the many dead
of the many, many years gone by,
and through them I became
howling god of the air
in black and silver robes;
my song ancient as the dark
of the universe
and the striving light of infinite stars.


Michael Wright is an avid explorer of writing dedicated to examining the thousand-and-one questions about what makes humans so truly wondrous and downright contrary at the same time. Fiction on Amazon: The Baltimore Trilogy, Purely Gone and Other Departures.