The Unwilling Ambassador

I am the eye of the hurricane

An icy calm surrounded by turmoil

The ocean waves pile high atop each other

I am above them all looking down

I see the swirling clouds and torrential rain

But nothing touches my icy skin

Everything just feels cold

And all at once I drop into the waves below

And it’s colder there than it was but

At least the numbness is gone

And I feel the pain.

What message do I pass along now

Serving as a door between two broken worlds?

Why under all this pressure do I feel calm?

Is it because of the weight of those I’m carrying?

Could it be that because I’m carrying so many broken hearts

My own has frozen still so as to pause on the brink of breaking,

But waits for a time to collapse that it won’t shatter the ones it lifts?