Storms

 Storms

 

The storms ferociously toss us around,

But in this screaming tempest we found,

The east; west; north; and south,

It was possible to find direction,

We found a quiet corner,

We hid; died; prayed; cried; and feared,

But in the pain of the moment,

We discovered possibilities,

We came to terms with our failures,

The storms bring with them,

Rains to nourish the soils,

Into which viable seeds,

Sprout, shoot and grow.

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