Ernesto
the young ones bow
the old ones brace
the wind sloughs off the old dead face
and bids them courtsey to the storm
A driving rain makes misty sky
with paley-grey great weeping eye
I do not know why it should cry
when all is green and warm
The power flickers then it fades
ends the nervous chatter o'er airwaves
its peaceful here, where mercy stays
and rest in God is the norm
1 comment:
I really enjoyed reading this. The abililty to turn a fearful time into beauty is truly a blessing!
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