This was written for dVerse where we were asked to write about order, of which I know nothing.
Eye of a Tornado
She’s chaos, dis-order undisciplined, a mess. She’s the fall garden burnished leaves tumbled, scattered, deadhead flowers. The aftermath of a windy trash day, strewn boxes, gliding plastic. Even her brain’s disordered. not clinically but robustly. Flitting, flying, angling for thoughts. On sane days, she wishes she were like accountants processing, clean, thorough, detailed. White starched shirt, no stains, clean lenses, blindered viewing. She longs, prays, cries for discipline just to see, prove, what she can do. But it’s like believing, hoping, wishing, there’s a calm inside a tornado. end
what a wonderful whirlwind of words you created here – loved the chaos of this tornado though it sounds as though she only half-hopes to be calm and ordered. many thanks for joining in with the prompt
Thanks so much, Laura! 🙂
Good point that one needs discipline to see what one can do.
Thank you, Frank! 🙂
I think we are looking for that order… but can you find it in the chaos of tornados?
I think you probably can’t. Thanks, Bjorn! 🙂
Oh how I adore this description of a disordered mind (of which i have) and the tornado metaphors. Being from a tornado prone area I completely relate to the random destruction. I find words in the mess and fling them at a page, as suggested in another post. This is a very dynamic piece. Thanks
Thank you so much for reading! 🙂
Seeking for something out of reach is something everyone can relate to. I especially like your ending.
Thank you, Ali! 🙂
I love the line that says, “She’s the fall garden burnished leaves tumbled, scattered, deadhead flowers.” The turmoil is so wonderfully illustrated. The picture is also very good. Thanks for this post.
Thank you so much, Geri! 🙂