I don’t think
that chaos ever ends,
but there are moments
between tragedies
and clamour.
In the eye of the storm,
the pause in the fight,
the early dawn,
before the devil
seeks his breakfast.
In this moment,
I can hear the birds;
only when the rain doesn’t fall
and I can sit
in a quiet
self reflection.
Picking scabs
and losing pieces of myself.
I might wrap up wounds
that I have earned
and contemplate
the meaning
of my pain,
or, in those
rare occasions
where I’m toasting victory,
let myself understand
the why of it.
Before lightning strikes again
to bring the thunder.
Before the next blow
is struck in anger.
Before the next tragedy befalls,
let me drink it all in,
like a moment
with my God.
I don’t think
that there’s an end
to chaos.
In fact,
I think it makes us,
more than not.
I can see
another storm is coming.
It cannot be stopped,
so it must be endured.
I hope that I have used
this peaceful moment well.
HG – 2016
