The Weather Is A Sorceress

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

My mood whisperer arrives early before I am roused from my morning sleep reveries.
The harbinger of seasons, the pied-piper whose whims fiddle with my feelings.
This sorceress divines the heavens, yet her oracles touch my soul.
The unwitting victim of her vicissitudes, shackled to the shenanigans of her magic.
She can be as fickle as the wind and as tempestuous as the sea,
with temper tantrums not to be ignored,
and like a dandelion pitted against a typhoon,
you stand about the same chance of triumph.

Alas, she has a dark side too and yes, I’ve seen her drunk with her power too.
Conjuring horrors in the heavens with hideous delight while unleashing her terrors at night, for no rhyme nor good reason other than to play god with my own sane reason.
Yet I’ve seen her gentle as a tender reed,
with breath as mellow as a mid-summer breeze,
and whispers as enchanting as an echo.
As melodramatic as her outbursts can sometimes be, what I fear most is the sway that it has on me.
When her smile makes the skies go sunny side up, I am tickled with rhapsodies of joy.
But when she turns dark and sad and gloomier still,
the sun hides from the menace of her forebodings.
Then her fog of melancholy brewed with a bile of bitterness to boot,
descends upon me like the weight of ten thousand gremlins - each with a nasty case of the blues.
And the dark clouds that ought to be hoisted up above, are instead closing in over my hunched over frame.

It is her insidiousness within that I fear more than the spectacular without.
I shudder at the way she makes me feel, like when her humidity leaves me in a pool of perspiration, while my insides unfurl into a puddle of gnarliest emotions.
Her winter chill may freeze my skin but it is nothing compared to the frigid emotions iced by the coldness within.
Her radiant weather may lift my spirits, but I chafe against her impositions on me.
So I rebel against the weather advisories genuflecting upon her altar because playing with my mood is my line in the sand.
Her seductions I countenance no more.
Be gone from me, you siren!
You beguiling sorceress called the weather.

  • Eze is a writer, software engineer and life enthusiast.

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