Xark!: "Tornado Child"

"Tornado Child"

Pam posted this over at Tales From The Microbial Laboratory yesterday, but when I saw it just now it just struck me so strong that I wanted to repost it here.

for Rosalie Richardson
By Kwame Dawes

I am a tornado child
I come like a swirl of black
and darken up your day:
I whip it all into my womb,
lift you and your things,
carry you to where you've never been
and maybe, if I feel good,
I might bring you back,
all warm and scared,
heart humming wild like a bird
after early sudden flight.

I am a tornado child.
I tremble at the elements.
When thunder rolls
my mother-womb trembles,
remembering the tweak of contractions
that tightened to a wail
when my mother pushed me out
into the black of tornado night.

I am a tornado child,
you can tell us from far,
by the crazy of our hair;
couldn't tame it if I tried.
Even now I tie a bandanna
to silence the din of anarchy
in these coir-thick plaits

I am a tornado child,
born in the whirl of clouds;
the centre crumbled,
then I came. my lovers
know the blast
of my chaotic giving;
they tremble at the whip
of my supple thighs;
tornado child, you cross me
at your peril, I cling to light
when the warm of anger
lashes me into a spin,
the pine trees bend to me
swept in my gyrations.

I am a tornado child.
When the spirit takes my head,
I hurtle into the vacuum
of white sheets billowing
and paint a swirl of colour,
streaked with my many songs.