Passing Storm

Great storms 
are not the final storms 
no more than sweet calms 
are the ever after; 
any more my faith turns 
toward eternity, 
trying so hard to see 
around the bend.

Earth, sun, river and wind...
I’m looking for the quintessential
Truth, something woven in
To every calm and storm.

This time 
won’t be the only time,
neither the first rhyme 
nor the closing chapter,
more and more I move to 
the perpetuity
of things that never change 
and never end.

Rock, fire, spirit and flow...
The more I move the less I know, but 
Truth, where I want to go,
Is with me all the time.

I AM
as certain as the journey journeys on,
each setting sun returns to where it rose,
each river flows into a timeless sea
and endlessly the wind replenishes.

I AM
as certain as the ground I stand upon
a fire within me burns eternally
and living water pulses through my veins
and hope, the spirit in my soul, remains.

This storm 
may be a passing storm,
but let the rains come
and let me feel the thunder
and let its music be 
part of the symphony
of where I’m going to 
and where I’ve been.

Earth, sun, river and wind...
Rock, fire, spirit and flow...
I’m looking for the quintessential
Truth: it's where I want to go.


from Turning the Metaphor