The Calm Within The Storm
Every life is a storm of turbulance;
full of swirling winds and sound;
laden with unending restlessness;
laying waste; appearing hellbound.
Life is born of purpose and consequence;
not meant as a peaceful vignette;
not governed merely by circumstance;
birthed through sorrow and regret.
Physical storms are the pictures of life;
their damage seems almost surreal;
the depth of their almost unending strife;
the landscape can taste and feel.
The greatest storms have death within;
all of life is much the same;
interrupting tranquility, all storms begin;
there’s no one to accept the blame.
Most know God as the Prince of Peace;
but God is also a raging fire;
though all pray their storms will cease;
storms are God’s burning desire.
Love is the peace within circumstance;
the calm of the eye of the storm;
winds and waves of love’s unending dance;
were there, before all were born.
Birth is always a most turbulant storm;
even though death presides, within;
death allows all, to the Master, conform;
only thru death can new life begin.
Monty 2/12/23. # 1,451