Touching the Center of the Storm.

Flying down the highway,

it’s late; I’m late.

The city’s whirling by,
as I charge onward.

The vehicle accelerates,
thrown in forward motion.

Yet, my sea of calm finds no waves.

A deep sense arises—
that in this storm
I remain entirely still.

My agenda—rushed,
but the truth in me—

just along for the ride.

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