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

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