The storm has been brewing since late
last night.
No more do we stand in a cracked dust
bowl of dirt,
...for it is covered in tears like manna
from Heaven.
Long was our vigil, our prayers we
thought sent for naught?
At last they seem to have been answered.
Brown leaves are now carried down the
asphalt river.
First dwindling – then vanishing into
the darkness...
...that strides the river edge.
Strange how even now one can get used to
a noise.
At first all you can hear is its all
encompassing nature.
Then you start to filter it out as the
calmness surrounds you...
... and you tread into the storm.
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