It was a blazing day, the sun kissed the earth roughly with no love.
The sky burned gold, its clouds laced with fire.
Sweat trickled down my skin as the air grew restless.
Fighting for dominance, I wrestled with the silence.
At first, it was a sting, a reminder of all that was lost.
It came suddenly, the ache of bones that once carried joy.
Not a drizzle but a storm, too sharp to hold,
A downpour of memories, too tender to release.
I stood within the tempest, battered yet unbroken.
Each wave pressed heavily, but still I held ground.
Lightning carved its warnings through the darkened air,
And thunder echoed its dooming presence.
But then came Peace, first a flicker, then a flame.
A whisper through the marrow,
The hum of wings unseen,
The solace of a presence yet unfolded.
Though the walls enclosed me, I felt its touch.
Not an illusion, but an arrival.
Peace had come, soft but certain,
An August visitor who had come to stay.
This poem is a reflection on storms, both the ones that rage outside and the ones that rise within us. It reminds me that even in the fiercest tempests, resilience can steady our feet until peace finds its way back. If you’ve weathered storms of your own, I hope these words echo your strength and remind you of the calm that follows.
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