The Moments. Poem by Cebo Soul

It's the scent before the storm.
n' the calm breeze that comes with it, sending shivers down the spine.

It's each and every droplet that races to greet the skin.
n' the crackling thunder that's reaching down to play the eardrum.

It's the water seeping beneath the soil, tickling the soles of my feet.
n' the tiny rays that slip through the blanketed sky, gently rushing to kiss the face, that's staring the storm right in the eye.

It's these little things and the meaningless meaning behind them that intrigue the heart yet frets the mind.

It's each moment before the moment,
n' the moment within the moment,
n' the moment after the moment,

n' the moment,
n' the moment,
n' the moment...