The storm slowly pushes in,
Thunder of despair, lightning of sorrow,
Rain of sadness, and wind of fear.
I sit, huddled in my shelter of hope,
as the storm grows in strength, I hope.
As the rain pushes is way into the cracks, I hope.
The thunder frightens me, and I hope.
I hope for sunny days, gentle breezes,
and beams of sunlight, I hope.
With each crackle of lighting my hope grows,
and with the growing hope, my shelter strengthens.
Hope is small, weak, almost invisible at first,
As despair creeps though, hope explodes,
A beacon in the storm.
Over the crashing waves you stand,
Solid, determined, confident.
The path to safety lies behind you,
Each side leads to danger, and risk.
Do you go backwards, avoiding danger?
You yearn to climb the slippery, jagged sides,
Exploring the new-found cliff with passion and joy.
Selfless, caring, kind, honorable,
A hero walks with purpose.
Striving to empower and protect,
And caring for those who can’t.
When a hero’s duty is done,
And the weak are strong,
Then the job is done.
Slowly, fading, leaving,
A hero must not remain,
once others can stand.
With changing perception you dominate,
The tenderest moments pass as swiftly as a Hawk’s dive.
Painful longing, passes as slow as the creeping glaciers.
Excitement, happiness, and joy, vanish in an instant,
While pain, longing and suffering last a lifetime.
Concentration and reflection may resist your fickleness,
But onward you must flow, forever pulling us along.
Like a star, shining in the darkness.
Nothing can escape your pull.
Full of hot matter,
Your light nurtures and provides life.
The heat of your soul warms life completely,
or destroys everything utterly.
Sitting alone, in a swamp
Full of grief and pain,
How can I survive?
The forest calls for my lost soul,
The sun holds my heart.
The need for closeness overwhelms,
My soul is split in two.
I fight to find what I have lost,
To reunite what has been torn.
Pain is all that exists,
Deep, dark, and overwhelming.
My heart has given up on itself,
exiled to its own prison.
Someday I will heal,
Today there is only pain.
It was a warm day in the heavily wooded forest. The light of the sun came across with a greenish tint, as it pushed its way through the leaves of the majestic evergreens populating the woods. The sound of far off waterfalls could be heard through the orchestra of birds and animals going about their business. The gentle hillsides were inundated with life, in all varieties. Elk, deer, bears, birds, this was their realm. Still unspoiled by the encroachment of humanity, this was nature at its finest. Lush, green, and powerful, you could feel the life coursing through the air.
In a clearing, open to the sunlight and adjacent to a flowing stream sat a woman. This was her sanctuary, her place of peace and joy. Her long flowing blonde hair seemed like one with the stream. Today was no day for joy, however. She was suffering through immense pain at the loss of her unborn child. Her tears fed the stream with her grief, a grief that no person should ever have to confront. How could she hope to overcome this pain? This was no ordinary grief, the challenge of carrying on was a heavier burden that Atlas could even bear to carry.
April asked for a sign, a reason to carry on and confront her grief. “Why me, why again” cried April. The sound of a family of ducks filled her ears. She looked toward the stream, and saw six ducklings floating behind their mother, diving now and then for food. It was a simple site, to see a small family of ducks floating down the lazy stream. Careless and oblivious to the dangers around them. April’s heart was touched by the warmth of the interaction. Her grief was as heavy as ever, but this one small scene warmed her, if just for a split second.
Life was hard, her grief was maddening. It would be easy for April to just give up on it all, and end it. She realized that was the problem, it would be too easy for her to give up. April knew then, that while it felt impossible to carry on, she would. She had gone through this before, faced her worse fears, and realized that she could do so again. Life was precious, and she would prove that she had the strength to live it, even in her darkest moment.
Day by day, we all waste our life away.
How easy would it be to ignore that empty feeling,
To be caught up in the redundant, the mundane, the fruitless.
My heart was empty, but I had all I should,
Friends, family, and career.
Ever nagging was that hole, ever in my heart.
Oh a whim, I followed my heart to the forest,
I, instead, had found my soul.