Her Broken wing

The Perfect Storm

Standing in the cold

I find no shelter from the rain.

Hope of a lesser Kind

Love such forgotten.

The storm of redemption

Jealously takes hold of my soul.

The rain picks up her pace hard against my skin.

And the thunder rolls in close.

There is a climax of Earth’s beauty as Mother Nature cries out.

There is a Perfect Storm.

Then the denouement.

Speculation—maybe.

Summation—surely.

Peace 

 Silence

Thus, the events of my life.

“For the peace of God transcends all understanding…” (Philippians 4:7)

Beautifully Awkward

This entry was posted on March 29, 2011 at 12:02 pm and is filed under Uncategorized with tags Faith, Hope, Philipians, Serenity. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.