The silence is beautiful
When the storm has passed
It wakens us and we dare to look about, forcing the fear from our eyes
Is it over?
The winds and rain of tragedy and trouble of the moment-
have they moved on?
We rest in the bliss of this new found safety, taking stock....counting heads....
What was lost?
When the storm has passed, who is missing from our life?
Who is still beside us?
When the storm has passed, we sweep away the debris
and straighten the pictures on the wall memory.
We go on when the storm has passed.
We throw open the door of life and step outside of ourselves
just to prove we are survivors
Nodding to others who also have lived through the storms.
There are so many!
When the storm has passed
We are not the same as we were before these winds blew through our life
But we are still standing.
And that's poetiquejustis
Artwork: Passing storm by Robert Pritchert Page
When the storm has passed
It wakens us and we dare to look about, forcing the fear from our eyes
Is it over?
The winds and rain of tragedy and trouble of the moment-
have they moved on?
We rest in the bliss of this new found safety, taking stock....counting heads....
What was lost?
When the storm has passed, who is missing from our life?
Who is still beside us?
When the storm has passed, we sweep away the debris
and straighten the pictures on the wall memory.
We go on when the storm has passed.
We throw open the door of life and step outside of ourselves
just to prove we are survivors
Nodding to others who also have lived through the storms.
There are so many!
When the storm has passed
We are not the same as we were before these winds blew through our life
But we are still standing.
And that's poetiquejustis
Artwork: Passing storm by Robert Pritchert Page
