Poems for the zooted and the zonked

Untitled Part 9

I ask of the anonymous god

Is this the quiet ruin after the reign and ravage of a storm?

Or the calm before another?

Do I get to finally get to rest in the midst of this whirling world?

Or is this is the predecessor to another one of your punchlines?

I feel happy, but fear that it is fleeting

for out of all the things iv'e learned from living under storm

i know that happiness is the least permanent of all feelings 

but i suppose that's what makes it all the more beautiful

when it does arrive

but go off i guess